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?
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
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