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Torn from the mountainside
of the woman's voice.
Trans-Mountain with its

bands of cold blue.
Broken Spanish
I wore wild hair with

naked skin
Bone cold
I knew the transplant
    of the Weeping

She may seek you
and lose you, but won't you go

When she loses her tormenta of ghost-roses?



Mary Robles is a current MFA candidate in poetry at Bowling Green State University and Poetry Editor at Mid-American Review. Recent work has appeared in Salt Hill Journal, Glass Mountain, and AGNI. maryroblespoetry.wordpress.com
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4 Nov 2024

“Did you know,” the witch says, “that a witch has no heart of her own?”
Outsiders, Off-worlders {how quickly one carves out a corner of the cosmos, / claims a singular celestial body as [o u r s] in the scope of infinity}
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