grandma what big teeth you have
in folktales the grandma’s face
warms us like a full moon promise But
here we are clawing the ground
for bitter fruit
in the silver that allows us
to stay alive: that allows hollow hands to
reach at sour and while
we’re at it, berry juice to be rubbed over
our mouths like baby bears—
grandma we need more blood in our
song but you never sing unless it’s to
feed tender fish with burnt
rocks
& teach your daughters about cloud water;
So find all the fires and
kill their shadows, for alchemy
has become outdated
tradition. we barbarians
are tired from our language: we need
each other’s skin & under the
fat sun we even crave a
Little loneliness.
Angela Sim is a poet and writer from Fairfax, Virginia. Her work is upcoming in Eunoia Review and has appeared in Long River Review, Virginia Literary Review and Voidspace. She attends George Mason University and is in her senior year of the school's BA English program (pursuing a concentration in creative writing).