by Chrissy Martin

We are girls scrawling words across collarbones, my body is instrumental no no not ornamental / how then so many hands decide to pluck pluck / decide to perform their favorite songs / high notes on the tightness of our thighs / lows in the resonance of empty bellies / girls that are playable / pliable / malleable / see flexible / see supple / see stars from hunger / i.e. thin / i.e. desirable / girls someplace between mace and home / carrying catchphrases, tell me what you want and let me be it / use it in a sentence / because the leather is pliable it is easy to work with / girls that are strong when untouched / forced to putty-up when met by the heat of hands / fear of danger / in fear of snapping / like gold or tin or trucks of spinning cement / always in a state of shaking / shaken up / girls whose mouths are always in shapes like no but can’t force off / force out the words / unsolicited slugs of heavy tongues leaving memory trails of popped taste bud bumps / girls practiced / in stopping the recoil / muting the reaction / knowing the bruises met by resistance / i.e. the way stillness might temper it / i.e. the way silence sounds a lot like thank you


SarahEliseAbramson_Folded Space (35mm)
Folded Space by Sarah Elise Abramson


Chrissy Martin is a first-year poetry student in the MFA program at Columbia College Chicago. She is an editorial board member and blog editor for Columbia Poetry Review. She is also a recent graduate of The University of Akron where she received her BA in English with minors in Creative Writing, Women’s Students, and Popular Literature and Film. Her work has previously appeared in AshBelt and Polaris.