Normally by Sheleen McElhinney
I do not yield to fingers tucking
A flower behind my ear. I do not
Blush a pink burn. I do not downcast
My eyes for anyone. But you--
I am ashamed.
I could unzip my skin like a dress
and point to the buzzing,
a hive of bees making honey
In the organs for you.
If this is a love story, I can’t hear it.
Not over the sound of my own heart
guarding its queen.
Sheleen McElhinney is a poet, baker, robot maker living in Bucks County, Pa with her family. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Whiskey Island Magazine, Dogzplot, and Poetry Is Currency. Her debut book, Every Little Vanishing, was the winner of the Write Bloody Publishing book prize and will be released this October. She tweets @SheleenMc