No more. I will make it easy. You can pull my cuticle, and I will reduce to one long strand, ready for you. You will run me through your knobby fingers, and I will be slick like a stream of tears. You understand—all of it is better this way: me limp, surrendered, knittable, ready to hear about Texas, to be silent, to be woven into wedding lace, baby clothes, a family quilt that will wear threadbare with wide holes like fertile wombs that needn’t murmur sorry.
An Arkansas native, Sarah Watkins is an educator by trade and a writer by necessity. She currently resides in northeast Arkansas with her husband. Her work has recently been featured in many publications, including Pine Hills Review, The Clayjar Review, and Literary Forest. Instagram: @sarahwatkinspoetry
Image Credit: “Shiny Minnow” by Savannah Campbell
Campbell is a photography student studying in the Delta region. Growing up in rural areas has given her an appreciation for the flora and fauna of her wonderful region, and as such, it is often the subject of herphotography.
