Erin MacLachlan

THIS THING I REALIZED

Our bodies are accordions
made to fold
in the womb and in the world
my arms bend up
my legs bend back
my legs bend back, and in
my arms bend in.
A tidy package.

Flesh accordions chiming
lies and sleep and meat and rain
dream of tormented bees.
Oh white buzz
the blind waitstaff serving,
eating the dark. Dust
settling into the cracks
around your eyes, vivid, gold
rising like steam.

Stretch those long legs, don’t stretch
that imagination. A jacob’s ladder
for every limb bending
every tumbling-out thought
caught by sinew. Your tied-up
energies expanding, contracting
expanding, dying.

Erin MacLachlan received her B.A. in English at the University of Massachusetts. She currently lives, writes, and teaches in a small town in Western Massachusetts.