after Hozier
Test me again. Let me fail so deliriously. Head rush.
Breath hot. Let me feel all my inner intricates only God knows
how much I’ve wanted this. This that I didn’t know I
could do. I didn’t know I. Could do with another
stroke of your nails down my back. Collect me.
Wound me. This blood I didn’t know I had. Stained
fingertips still sour and pomegranate pink. Let me
burst. Like these fallen goji berries we crush under
shuddering thigh. So soft so hard with the calf taut
to witness this. Sacrifice it. Let every muscle strain
be a shock along the way to that tightness. Tight
ass untaught deliciously aware of the need
to brace itself for this great push outward. We will
be pushed outward. You are certain. But your mouth
has become something else. Inobedient to that simple
hunger only God knows. This is our terrain. Take it
from me. Admonish me. Cast me out with your wide
hips woman-thick. I run my lips against everything
I know now must be hidden. Not yet. Serpent still
in grass somewhere fuck him. Let him distend
around tree limb and stretch to sink his face into
the skin of it. Let him be legless in a minute.
Let him watch and wonder forever after if it was
worth it. It was worth it. I will do it again. This
that I didn’t know I could do. I spread. I am here.
Lee Pelletier is a poet from Connecticut who likes to write about art, history, and feminism. She was a finalist for the 2024 Frontier Poetry OPEN Contest. She has been published in (or has work forthcoming from) Frontier Poetry, Griffel, Ditch Life, and the Bangalore Review. Her manuscript-in-progress was an honorable mention for the 2025 Miami Book Fair Emerging Writer Fellowship.