So many sentences I’ve found
So many I’ve heard, for forgetting,
On the boardwalk —
I did everything for the sun to not burn me
I was a protected woman,
half-seal, half-fish
Little midday lounging
Scratching at my side
Jolly, winded,
Total package, even
Maybe Leviathan,
Then getting chilled
I sprawled
(dried off)
I made holes, deeply,
Because being cold left me
Bruising, or the opposite, healed
Face that forgets
Its own age
And I made mutations, maybe
Hoping for the sounds to sound
Different, just for
Your obliged understanding
—
Katie Ebbitt is a poet and clinical social worker based between NYC and Mexico City. She is the author of Another Life (Counterpath Press, 2016), the chapbook Para Ana (Inpatient Press, 2019), and has contributed poetry to the anthology Rendering Unconscious (Trapart Books, 2019). Her work has appeared in Tupelo Quarterly, The Poetry Project Newsletter, A) Glimpse) Of), Fanzine, Queen Mob’s Tea House, Prelude, and Deluge, among others. She curates the By The Way Reading Series.