by Jessica L. Walsh

She’d been wrong about much
it turns out   Turns out accident
is the larger bowl
                                        the one that holds her whole
thigh bare against dawn             skin
passed from mosquitos to flies               her lips broiled
hard just above the sheet

Turns out her house was spring-loaded with causes

Her arms were cork guns
                                                                    She thought you knew

But turns out she was overdue
A thing like that               how long could it go on

Accident was a graceful favor to wave
over her as she swirled down

The coyote never came               turns out


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