Furrows
From a thousand miles away
my eye travels the slick roads
of your limbs glistening
from the waters
reflecting the richness of the land
my fingers ache to grip
hard or gently
at the crown of your hair
see the blades of your eyes
flutter closed, the wing pointing to heaven
Witness the black pointed nails
reveal furrows in my back
the earth reclaimed
in the song of your name
I want to refill you
with all of the land I can return
and all of the water I can carry
just to witness the lift of your lips
knowing smirk wrapped around a cigarette
undoing me, unknowing
perhaps unwanted
Erika Gill (they/them) lives on unceded Tséstho’e (Cheyenne), Očhéthi Šakówiŋ, hinono’eino’ biito’owu’ (Arapaho), and Núu-agha-tʉvʉ-pʉ̱ (Ute) land in Denver. Erika is Editor in Chief of Alternative Milk Magazine. Their poetry appears in fifth wheel press, MORIA, Birdy, and others. Their collection, Lone Yellow Flower, is forthcoming from Querencia Press. Socials are at @invariablyso.