National Poetry Month: I WANTED TO SAY WHERE I WAS NOT by Meghan M. Lee

They made for themselves a house in pen&ink. What you can see. Red

stocking feet cocked askance under the table. The dog leaned with his

whole body, head pressed against her leg.

Explicit, the warm wounds of labor.

They put me in a dress I did not like, tight around the body and all the

straps too loose. You could see me through. I never wanted beads, ringing

out and out in mission. They fit inside. They pooled as letters in my hand.

I hid his gifts around the house because they were not his to give, but did

not want the recognition—that I had left these things behind.

Trying to make one better. Gulping orange moons like the Fish Girl.

How do you define missive? An index, sir. We were in other places.

This poem is from issue 39.2. You may purchase a copy here.