Emily Corwin

In sleep, I look like a fighter—

fists held before me, putting up my dukes: prepared, predisposed
to clash, a skin collision. These anonymous rivals, unknown
to even me—cross and hook, disagreed. In sleep, I handle the word,
“edgeworthia” like a satisfying clay, polished back and forth
in the temporal lobe. Edgeworthia, or “paper bush,”
or “mitsumata”—trichomotous, three-stemmed daphne.
My dreamy visions subdivide, up and down the Penrose Steps
I scale impossibly, an impassable illusion. In order to exit the drought,
we need nine inches of rain in May, they say on the morning
Zoom. The voicemail accosts me: “Hello! Is Emily available?
Are you ready? No problem.” Not available, nor ready,
my problem curdles into malices I hardly recognize:
this grudge, held tight as hands.

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Emily Corwin’s work has appeared in Salamander, Black Warrior Review, Passages North, DIAGRAM, Ninth Letter, New South and elsewhere. Her books include Marble Orchard (University of Akron Press, 2023), Sensorium (University of Akron Press, 2020), tenderling (Stalking Horse Press, 2018) and Glossamer, forthcoming from the University of Akron in 2027.