After chemotherapy she was
Remembering that she was remembering
A waterfall of ringlets.
Luminance flowed like a charcoal
Wolf pelt down her neck.
How it framed her wide-set eyes.
Sensuality magnified a million times
When touched by fingertips.
Who received the greater gift?
The touched or the one touching?
Then it was shaved
To minimize the mistakes
Made in life.
Mirrors, always a post-it note reminder.
At night: an unexpected 2 minutes:
Black hues, rustle under the pillow
And answer the wind
Like the call from a friend
On the fire escape.
Blackness sprouts wings
Rushes out to meet the moon.
A ravenous raven with no head to claim.
Into two dimensions, three dimensions.
The shape holds the sky
If nothing else.
Author Bio:
Jennifer MacBain-Stephens first attempts into writing began when she wrote notes to her mother from her room when she was mad. (Dear mom, I do not think it is fair that I cannot watch the scary movie with Sean. I am sure that I am old enough. Please write back. Love, Jenny) She loves writing and poetry because she still uses it to make sense of her thoughts and feelings and she also has a short attention span. She is influenced by girly things, science, scary forests, and then mixing all of that together sometimes. She went to NYU but now considers the Midwest home. She has been published in such places as: Superstition Review, Emerge Literary Journal, Red Savina Review, Foliate Oak Literary Magazine, Burningwood Literary Journal, The Apeiron Review, Star 82 Review, Thirteen Myna Birds, Rufous City Review, Stirring: A Literary Collection, Gravel Magazine, Sein und Werden, The New Poet, Menacing Hedge, Sassafras Literary Magazine, The Missing Slate, Iowa City’s 2013 Poetry in Public Project and others. She was recently nominated for Best of the Net. She likes cooking new dishes and then forcing people to eat them and she also likes getting dirty outside in various capacities.
Remembering that she was remembering
A waterfall of ringlets.
Luminance flowed like a charcoal
Wolf pelt down her neck.
How it framed her wide-set eyes.
Sensuality magnified a million times
When touched by fingertips.
Who received the greater gift?
The touched or the one touching?
Then it was shaved
To minimize the mistakes
Made in life.
Mirrors, always a post-it note reminder.
At night: an unexpected 2 minutes:
Black hues, rustle under the pillow
And answer the wind
Like the call from a friend
On the fire escape.
Blackness sprouts wings
Rushes out to meet the moon.
A ravenous raven with no head to claim.
Into two dimensions, three dimensions.
The shape holds the sky
If nothing else.
Author Bio:
Jennifer MacBain-Stephens first attempts into writing began when she wrote notes to her mother from her room when she was mad. (Dear mom, I do not think it is fair that I cannot watch the scary movie with Sean. I am sure that I am old enough. Please write back. Love, Jenny) She loves writing and poetry because she still uses it to make sense of her thoughts and feelings and she also has a short attention span. She is influenced by girly things, science, scary forests, and then mixing all of that together sometimes. She went to NYU but now considers the Midwest home. She has been published in such places as: Superstition Review, Emerge Literary Journal, Red Savina Review, Foliate Oak Literary Magazine, Burningwood Literary Journal, The Apeiron Review, Star 82 Review, Thirteen Myna Birds, Rufous City Review, Stirring: A Literary Collection, Gravel Magazine, Sein und Werden, The New Poet, Menacing Hedge, Sassafras Literary Magazine, The Missing Slate, Iowa City’s 2013 Poetry in Public Project and others. She was recently nominated for Best of the Net. She likes cooking new dishes and then forcing people to eat them and she also likes getting dirty outside in various capacities.
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