Tara Roeder
cool radishes of light burst―
it was the summer, then too.
(bare skin electric summer; greenscratch)
makes me wonder why we ever left―
same place, slice blades of sun,
hipbone: you glided and i glued
myself against your hipbone. ribbons
of photons reached us.
those days never smelled of sea salt:
molecule for molecule, pressed against the wall
of you, the sky pinked and swirled,
palimpsest.
stop me if you’ve heard this all before
Tara Roeder is an Associate Professor of Writing Studies in New York City. Her poetry has appeared or will appear in
E Ratio, Haggard and Halloo, Crab Fat Literary Magazine, The Journal of Compressed Creative Arts, and Blood Lotus.
Return to September 2015 Edition
it was the summer, then too.
(bare skin electric summer; greenscratch)
makes me wonder why we ever left―
same place, slice blades of sun,
hipbone: you glided and i glued
myself against your hipbone. ribbons
of photons reached us.
those days never smelled of sea salt:
molecule for molecule, pressed against the wall
of you, the sky pinked and swirled,
palimpsest.
stop me if you’ve heard this all before
Tara Roeder is an Associate Professor of Writing Studies in New York City. Her poetry has appeared or will appear in
E Ratio, Haggard and Halloo, Crab Fat Literary Magazine, The Journal of Compressed Creative Arts, and Blood Lotus.
Return to September 2015 Edition