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A girl sits in the back of the class—
you will go through changes—
her dragonfly wings flutter, shatter light.

The taloned boy wonders—
you may feel things, urges—
who will ever want to hold his hand.

The fanged, the tusked,
the razor-horned sense the sadness that will come—
this is natural—with learning to rein in their lips.

You may have dreams—
and they do, in their dreams
they are naked and shadow-blued

in front of a mirror—this happens to
everyone—trying on different shapes,
their reflection shaking its head no,

the body
a destination
distanced by want.



Todd's work has appeared or is forthcoming in McSweeney’s Internet Tendency, Electric Literature, Best New Poets, and Asimov’s Science Fiction Magazine.  He is the recipient of a grant from the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators, and his chapbook, The Drowned Hymns, is available from Jeanne Duval Editions.  He lives in Philadelphia with his wife and daughter.
Current Issue
4 Nov 2024

“Did you know,” the witch says, “that a witch has no heart of her own?”
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