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Category archive for: JM Miller

when i was a girl

night told me to bite or burn

my ass was a cat call, my face a baby, my hips

a handle—my body’s object turned skin to ash

when i was a girl i was

a pearl gathering itself from dust

a wordsong waiting in a shell

how can i tell you that your eyes are commas

in my obituary where every cathedral is a stranger

that every time you argue my grammar

after tracing my breasts from moon into tit

or citing the manual of singulars and plurals

my spirit folds its syntax into a choke

dear silence

wingmuscle pulls down the air’s stars

opening each throat in the meadow

dear silence

windsong releases the throats of the dying

until each silence is a resting place for gods

dear silence

we burn too brightly for the boundaries of nouns

most days we’d give it all up to be a fire

from Poetry Northwest 12.1 Summer & Fall 2017More by JM Miller from the library

Copyright © JM Miller
Used with the permission of the author
on behalf of Poetry Northwest.

This program is supported in part by a grant from the Idaho Humanities Council, a State-based program of the National Endowment for the Humanities.

Any views, findings, conclusions, or recommendations expressed in this (publication, website, exhibit, etc.) do not necessarily represent those of the Idaho Humanities Council or the National Endowment for the Humanities.