It burst out of you like a swarm of bees,
And you didn’t recognize the scream.

Moonlight drizzled across your forehead
Like milk and honey seeping from the comb.

Clarity isn’t the sharp taste
You expected it to be.

The skull reined your mind the way
you bridal deliverance from an animal.

In one breath the night could slip,
toes teetering beside the tip of an axe.

Don’t step away from the wilderness
Howling like a rugged beast in your rib cage.

Bone polished beside ivory and pine
A meticulous sculptor took his time

To tether and cage a thumping muscle.
His hand tucked you inside organs

Before eyes glossed in blood
Ever understood the tide

Building against the walls of skin.
Let’s sew you up, and call you whole.



Erynn Pontius grew up in Ogden, Utah. She graduated from the University of Utah with a Bachelor of Arts in Writing and Rhetoric Studies, and a minor in Creative Writing. She currently works for Weber State University. Erynn’s work has been published in Hungry Chimera, Dying Dahlia Review and Canticle.

Photograph by Finn Lafcadio O’Hanlon