with your balloon shoulders

and your shredded waist

and your rose bones

and your eyelids


how can we tell if these murmurs hit our ears the same?

and do you ever think knees just aren’t real?




i’m peachy

peach cobbler

like a dozing mountain lion

on my plate


come, empty skin, join me by the fire

use my fork and pretend we’re the same




we’ll suffer swiftly

sift lightly

catch a cold

just in time


there may not be any chestnuts roasting

but my flames will always be wide open




Bria is an undergraduate at Emory University majoring in English/Creative Writing and Interdisciplinary studies. She is currently exploring how art can forge bonds of empathy between very different groups of people and enhance cultural happiness