top of page

Morning in Three Movements

I


I lie in my own pasty pool

like a lamb in a druid’s bed.

Layer by layer, thread 

after thread, I shed 

and shed. O, press me

between your palms again!

Deliverer, be delivered.

Without your need, without 

a guise to beautify, 

what am I?


II.


I know her layers far better 

than she. Scales that I peel 

in a rush of steam. My tongue, 

her arch, her bending knee.

The soft between her legs 

where I redeem myself, 

the way the Great Throwdini 

did, who earned his life, her love,

by sparing them. Without her

bristling flesh, oh what am I?


III.


In this morning

light, I am almost 

transparent, a sheet 

of shimmering   

snow that holds

another person’s fears – 

once in this tight embrace,

twice in this lingering 

scent, this care, this

newfound air.



Answers to Riddles in Reverse:

I: paos fo rab

II : rozar

III. eussit





.

Copyright © 2023  M. B. McLatchey. All rights reserved.

Published in The Banyan Review, Fall 2023. 

amber-214x154_edited.jpg
bce.jpg
bottom of page