Mariah Bosch is a Chicana poet from Fresno, CA. She attends the MFA program there, where she teaches first year writing and works with Juan Felipe Herrera as a graduate fellow in his Laureate Lab Visual Wordist Studio. Her work can be found elsewhere in Peach Magazine, voicemail poems, and Flies, Cockroaches, & Poets.

Also by Mariah Bosch: Proverbs Erasure Reading Lines


Mariah Bosch

[dream in which I know feminine]





I drive along a road flanked by women running in white cotton dresses. I shout out the window: Keep going, and they do. When we get to the ocean, it kisses us all at the same time — we tangle arms, legs, fingertips, white cotton dresses. We wade out — underwater, everything shifts at the same time: plants and fish move left, we move with water right. We wait in the under. In this collective body, I am unafraid. I allow myself the moment to feel my organs stop moving inside of my body. The women all know this brief moment is only my own and they feel inward at their shifting bodies too. I know our hearts have caught up to each other, matched beats per second underneath this blue. In the measure before another pulse, we retangle, return limb to limb, arms and legs in braids. We float to the surface.




Glass: A Journal of Poetry is published monthly by Glass Poetry Press.
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