Stephanie Luczajko

HULL


I. we are the sometimes weavers of
baskets for collecting cotton and
seeds fallen, film inside the
eggshell after yolk clinging
like the ache of only hearing
what you want to taste and rub on
webs between your fingers we are
as strings ply as rope as
that which submerged for king
crab and yielded a mermaid or
girl who could not swim we
II. said all ships are better in
bottles for when they sink nothing
is lost china gold leaf grandfather
clock that tracks the moon are
under our noses that touch
III. it is there in your eye’s
pillow it washes dust from
retina, reflects what i thought
instead were seahorses and i
i will turn the motor pushing
legs and sink to those depths
that know only the light of
robots refracting
babydoll eyes and clocks that
track the moon and strings that
hold my boot straps, songs to
IV. wrap the soft underside of your
tongue to wrap the lines the
rope the gum over wisdom tooth
and horses had ridges like the native
backs of your canines and it
was the same
i could not hold them.

Stephanie Luczajko is pursuing her BA in creative writing at the University of Pittsburgh.