Poetry Issue 15

   Issue #17 : July-December 2012

Marni Ludwig


      I am liking you leaning in
      for yogurt and morphine.

      You’ve decided to die again.

      —and the milk ticks
      off the blue seconds
      at your wrist—

      —and the eggs hum
      to the insect
      in your chest—

      One is frightened
      and spins all night
      in its carton.

      Tell me now how you love
      to look at your life
      in pale yellow light.