by Alexandra Renwick
you’re such a wild prose;
saying you hate poetry
won’t negate the flow of you
you make of me a moebius strip
curving into your curves
twisting into your twists
one side becoming another
so no end can exist,
just one long beginning
threading through all the spaces
across all the acres of our skin
and our insides too:
tiny folds and crenelations
of our unknowable pieces
recognized but not discovered
run fingers over my beginning
and beginning and beginning—
…..see? you can’t find
the place where I stop:
just you exist
and I exist
one wild enduring prose
turned inside out and
looping back together
Alexandra Renwick is a dual Canadian/US writer of noir, mythpunk, and literary fabulism. Under various iterations of her birth name, her eclectic poems and stories have appeared in magazines and anthologies ranging from Beneath Ceaseless Skies to The Baltimore Review to The Year’s Best Hardcore Horror. Her award-nominated collection Push of the Sky got a starred review in Publishers Weekly and was an official reading selection of the Powell’s Books SF Book Club. She currently splits her time between Portland, Austin, and Ottawa.