Monica Lewis lives in Brooklyn, New York and holds an MFA from Columbia University. Both her fiction and nonfiction have appeared or are forthcoming in SmokeLong Quarterly, Apogee Journal's Perigee, and AAWW's The Margins, and her poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in Rust + Moth, Cosmonauts Avenue, FIVE:ONE, The Boiler Journal, PUBLIC POOL, Yes, Poetry, Flapperhouse, among others. She is a VONA/Voices alumna and 2017 Best of the Net poetry nominee. Her full collection of poetry, Sexting the Dead, will be published in summer 2018 by Unknown Press. Follow her on Twitter at mclewis22.
Monica Lewis
epigraph
we will call each other new names, names which have no words, names which are a growl, names before the birth, before the natal dawn, before the egg grew fingers, eyes and toes, before lungs were seas, before the little deaths, before she had a name and he had a name and the name was a thing to be said aloud. we will call each other, but it will be a scramble of every sound, the cut gristle, the lake lapping, the mother's hum. your name is muscling my tongue, it is threading the trees, the roots and bark and leaves, it is the birds of prey who nightly break from branch, beak bent beseeching. i have heard them call you, call you, call out, but
the mouths of birds of beasts of men cannot contain you.
i will name you beauty as the earth does every
broken, blooming seed, every flower's full deep
throat caught open gulping sky.
Glass: A Journal of Poetry is published monthly by Glass Poetry Press.
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