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Inverted

Inside the rabbit hole, among the clotted
soil, the shivering roots, an earthworm’s holy
paradise, the moon burns black, and not
a soul eats corn. It’s perfectly natural
that not just mother bears will eat their young,
and mitochondria flee their cells. Lowly
mice are king. The minutes highlight gradual
lengthening days, and love’s bite is not this pain.
Our skin is no barrier, eyes wide, arms flung.
When a girl, not looking, finds soft love
in a girl’s raw heart, so it goes with the grain.
Limbs notched in their lavender haze, no thistle
to mar their daffodil limbs, hassle
their undomesticated love. Kissed full.


NBR10HumphreyssmallBethanie Humphreys is a writer, editor, mixed media visual artist, and curator for the Sacramento Poetry Center Art Gallery. Her poetry and short fiction have been published in several literary magazines and her artwork has been in several juried and group shows. She was Editor in Chief of the American River Review, and is on the staff of the Tule Review