Identity | Nancy Dedman

OATH (ARS POETICA)

Caroline Subbiah

a poem should be a pulse rattling against your wrist. your mind, your body, stripped down to the warm beating flesh as your organs sing together in loud, beautiful harmony. a poem should be unfiltered coffee, dark, thick like honey. thoughts strewn across the page like a bag of dead leaves turned on its side, so its contents scatter in the wind. a thousand butterflies.

i am ready, willing. i wait with open arms, with nets stitched from fairy floss, to catch the stray thoughts that float by like seaweed in the waves.

let yourself sink, and trust that you will come back up.