XXIII. Energy
the lie in (wait)
by Stephanie Parent
fur under your clenched palm
not soft or sleek — feline, not housecat
grit of dried blood beneath your left ring finger
one slip, and the tender flesh of your thumbpads
meets incisor, canine, carnassial
you no longer remember
whether you fear or long for
rupture
your hand has held tight here for decades, centuries
you’ve forgotten how it feels to flow like water
forgotten whether or why
you chose this
you don’t know what will happen
when it’s time to let go
but you know the teeth will be strong
(no lies) and sharp (like truth)
Stephanie Parent (she/her) is a graduate of the Master of Professional Writing program at USC. She lives and writes in Los Angeles.