Skin taunt like over ripe fruit
velveteen under your mouth
the way it eventually
yields
and splits
wetly
against the guillotine
of your teeth
I yield to your sharp edges
I yield
I yield
there is an opening
in the cosmic imprint of time
and I fall through
burrow beneath the
layers of
gristle and flesh
the tendons strung tight
as your mania
the muffled drum
of womb and pumping blood
the silence between us
threatens to untether me
I’m left grasping for roots
that never took
just your warmed flesh
and thick fingers
fishhook pressed against
slippery pubic
bone
pinned and gasping
I let go
Elizabeth Gade is a Minnesota based bisexual poet and human trafficking survivor. Writ- ing is her radical way to connect with fellow survivors. Her poems have been published in View Magazine, The Elevation Review, 300 Days Of Sun, Other Worldly Women Press & more. Elizabeth created LEO Literary Journal, an online journal dedicated to women writ- ers affected by incarceration. Connect with her on Instagram @ElizabethGadeThePoet