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Allison Collins

The chain of my necklace

was knotted and I wore it anyway,

wanting to wreath myself

in something shiny for you –

a bowerbird, calling

calling calling:

want me. 


You noticed and reached

with large hands,


for my neck

as, unthinking,

I swept aside hair – 

a curtain lifting –

and welcomed you closer.


My own hands found pockets,

wings folded,

and I watched you

undo small links of gold

but also, me:


Something long corded and hard

grew molten

beneath my breast –

an ingot tossed

to a fire

I’d forgotten.


The sunlight through mullioned windows

tiled our two-headed shadow

into something tidy

as you lingered over

replacing it, the necklace,

with such care

I nearly cried.

Allison Collins’ poetry has been published with Blast Furnace Press, Havok by Splickety Publishing, Shark Reef, Easy Street, Literally Stories, The Ravens Perch, E-Ratio, California Quarterly and New Contexts 2: An International Collection of New Poetry & Prose. Work is forthcoming in Evening Street Press & Review. She is an editor of Upstate Life Magazine and a writer with Oneonta, New York’s The Daily Star and Kaatskill Life Magazine.

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