i. when he thinks you
cold so you sit in the
kitchen, matches in hand, trying
to decide when enough will be
enough. the scorches on the tile,
your mother walking in, and you, swallowing
whole.
ii. when he climbs you, when he sifts
your gold, leaves
the dust in your lungs. when he is
in you, when he whispers
dirty in your ear before getting
up, getting dressed, getting back
to warmer someones.
iii. when you relight
matches from the inside, burn a hole in
your throat. when you finger
the dust, the debris that
muddied your skin— when
you become someone
warmest, whole.
Charlotte Covey is from St. Mary's County, Maryland. She currently live in St. Louis, and she earned her MFA in Spring 2018. She has poetry published or forthcoming in journals such as The Normal School, Salamander Review, CALYX Journal, the minnesota review, and The Monarch Review, among others. In 2015, she was nominated for an AWP Intro Journal Award. She is co-editor-in-chief of Milk Journal.