Divergent and Rotten to the Core
Holly Lyn Walrath
I am cutting out pieces of me in spirals.
She whispered in my ear, Apple Girl—
Can we just not?
I need a spell for how to believe in my own sex.
Sometimes I think we’re just drunk on impulse-whimsy.
She’s sleeping on Esplanade with the muse.
This place is a smoke railway.
Her voice is an arrow
pulled from the quiver, broken.
I need to work on vengeance.
If I squeeze my eyes real tight
I can see its elfin shame—
so tiny.
I walk down Frenchmen Street and
take off my plaingirl clothes.
I am the least barren thing here
and I let myself lie under the tree,
knotting up my baggage,
shoving it under my skin.
She is panoramic.
Abandoned-house empty.
At night we will drink
will drink null drink
null numb
drunk
with love.
Holly Lyn Walrath’s poetry and short fiction has appeared in Strange Horizons, Fireside Fiction, Daily Science Fiction, Liminality, and elsewhere. She is the author of the Elgin Award-nominated chapbook Glimmerglass Girl (Finishing Line Press, 2018). She holds a B.A. in English from The University of Texas and a Master’s in Creative Writing from the University of Denver. You can find her canoeing the bayou in Houston, Texas, on Twitter @HollyLynWalrath, or at www.hlwalrath.com.