Naming, by Caroline M. Mar
Blank sky: too simple. You are window-streaked, edged in god’s-eye-white. I can see
where you took a breath, where you repeated yourself. Tiny flecks of your own voice, deepening.
Clear as an eyedrop. Settled as a vintage tear. Nothing harried about you, tiny fingers licking
your own edges. You could be a flag, flutter in anticipation of your own Wellfleet wedding.
Something old, something borrowed, a rusty earring back cast aside. You are summer’s
generosity, watermelon’s thinnest rind, your firework tongue in my shellshine mouth.
The antique ocean blooms, watches.
Caroline Mei-Lin Mar is the author of Special Education (Texas Review Press) and the forthcoming chapbook Dream of the Lake (Bull City Press). A high school health educator in San Francisco, she is doing her best to keep her gentrified hometown queer and creative. Carrie is a graduate of the MFA Program for Writers at Warren Wilson College, an alumna of VONA, and a member of Rabble Collective. She has been granted residencies at Hedgebrook, Ragdale, and VSC, among others.