Controra
It is the hour of my deathspell.
I wear a corona of rosemary smoke,
I contrive an entry into forbidden cloisters
of my own soft places where wait
the chimera, the child, the knife.
What we eat now, here in the shadowbed
heartbitter and darksweet tangs like medicine.
This is the hour of nourishment.
Summer of Cucumber Mint and I’m Leaving Him
of apricots and apathetic picnics her sweat an invisible necklace
on my clavicle crushed wild grapes and his hands kneading my thigh
summer of my fingerprints patterning his sunglasses summer of depression
glass clinking gin oyster ocean of dreams dissipating
summer of his long walk out of my mind
of flatness while he dazzles Marseille
of no moonlit guitar summer of a postcard in place of a plane ticket
summer with no sea to shock my nipples of his journey ripening
without me his potency unpicked peaches dropping onto dry grass
summer of reunions and hoarse karaoke at the queer bar
crop tops celebrating soft bellies summer of repressed madness
leaking onto pavement of penny pinching
summer of lies told with good intent
summer of his green blades slicing me to the quick
gloom girl summer in a red bardot bathing suit with a homemade Brazilian
in case he wants to summer of rock-hard plums of throwing his pebbles
back into the sea of regret and egrets spied from a shadowed canoe
summer of whipping my top off summer of retrogrades and vintage bandanas
of licking him in my imagined future of rhyming footsteps up to his bed
in the bruised haze of twilight
summer of come back for the love of god for the love of love for the love
of me for the plot for the pleasure
summer of the heart climbing out the window
summer of the lingering goodbye a tout a l’heure lingerie wept onto his floor
my elbow carving his scapula summer of the drowned oracle
summer of thorn and bumblebee of eternal rage amid the sweet-faced
buttercups of sunflowers crowding his doorstep like fangirls summer of his rise
summer of his exit summer of cancelled plans of crab legs sun-rotting
of his palm catching the drips of his palm lifted to his lips
summer of irrational irritation summer of uprooted beauty
Shari Caplan (she/her) is the author of "Exhibitionist" (Lily Poetry Review Books, Paul Nemser Prize, 2024), “The Red Shoes; a Phantasmagoric Ballet on Paper,” (Lambhouse Books, 2023), and “Advice from a Siren” (Dancing Girl Press, 2016). Her work has appeared in Gulf Coast, Painted Bride Quarterly, Grimoire, Drunk Monkeys, and others. A poet, actor, and event organizer, Shari works at the intersection of poetry and performance and seeks to invigorate our collective imaginative potential. To learn more visit ShariCaplan.com.