Search

of skin and stone by Eve Kagan

the sand refuses to be monochrome

here where the dunes meet the sea

my body pounds rock pink flesh bruising

blue granite collides with slate with skin

a lightning bolt of white marking

the circumference the place

where one became the other a scar

dolomite basalt milky quartz

harmonize with the waves there is a violence

in the song the tide pulls back longing

my mouthful of salt spurting blowhole blubbery

mess of flesh heart thumping stones

grinding between toes and teeth gasping

for land shades of beige blonde gold

pulling at the fibers of being treading

where the earth drops off weightless

but for gravity

and the moon pulling me under



 

Eve Kagan is a poet/performer/trauma therapist living in Boulder. Her poems have been published in Eunoia Review, Parks & Points & Poetry 2021, Amethyst Review, Lunate, and Wild Roof Journal; her personal essays and short stories have been published in various journals and anthologies.

13 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

mixed media on paper, 2019, 11x14 inches It's the in-between moment of two stages, before and after makeup. The moment that we don't care what we look like and have the highest attention to what we do

Your anger is a mangy thing Perched upon a gnarled branch. It is A bird, cawing a funeral dirge, Pecking at corpses whilst imagining that The dead are at peace. It sings Hymns in praise of slaughter,

I imagine my body as a dahlia: Core of carefully folded petals, tender explosion outward, layer upon layer, pink, straight stem shooting up toward the food of the sun. But my dahlias hardly withstood