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    Two Poems

    In 'Swollen' and 'Voyeur's Video', Danielle Rae Childs reflects on memory, love, and beauty.

    Swollen 

    for H.

    It wounds me that I can’t tempt him

    from his fate, but

    I did feel beautiful this morning, 

    weeping in the shower

    and charmed by my cartoon 

    balloon eyes—

    skin stretched tight,

    catching the light.

    You should see them (he should,

    he has, no avail). 

    They are lovely, open sores, ripe

    with paradox:

    swelling up the more

    they’re drained out.  

    Voyeur’s Video 

    for C.

    The memory is hazy,

    the photographic still 

    of the memory I keep

    in my head, more so.

    It’s a fraction of face,

    with the ear center frame,

    little blonde hairs wisping

    around, too short to tuck,

    but I tried anyway. 

    When the still breaks into

    memory in motion,

    that’s what I see: a hand, 

    desperate to possess.

    I don’t know that the hand 

    is mine until the film blurs,

    and I’m back in my body,

    feeling my fruitless fingers:

    I couldn’t reach him. 

    Was the graze as good,

    as the grasp might have been?

    Next time I had his head

    near me, I tucked it tight

    under my chin.

    Image Credit to the author.

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