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              the elusive dark : slow curve
of a mother’s spine : riverbank
              solid enough to stand : home
a starsilver river of arms
 
              my mother’s riverbend is subtle
& soft : her arms wet firefly
              light : home the far shore of her heart
& i : the traveler boatless
 
                         //
 
              a green fish rises from my mother’s
water : shows me how to take apart
              my bones : how to break & reposition
them to make of me a boat :
 
              ribcage hull : femur mast : scaffolding
of tibia & spine : if i leak i fill the gaps
              with teeth : the fish says if i use my skin
for sails i won’t need my mother’s body :
 
              yes i say but who

                         will brush my hair
 
 
 

Raye Hendrix is a poet from Alabama who loves cats, crystals and classic rock. Raye is the Web Editor for Bat City Review and has worked for Southern Humanities Review as Assistant Managing Editor. She earned her BA and MA in English from Auburn University and is pursuing her MFA at the University of Texas at Austin, where she was a finalist for the 2018 Keene Prize for Literature. Raye received honorable mentions for poetry from AWP’s Intro Journals Project (2015) and Southern Humanities Review’s Witness Poetry Prize honoring Jake Adam York (2014). Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Southern Indiana Review, The Chattahoochee Review, Shenandoah, The Pinch and elsewhere.