"Spied" by Lindsey Warren

Spied

Spied in the hippocampal
flashlight: I eat a river
and become a seethrough; Betelgeuses
leave microscopic prints on
my hemoglobin, peer into my navel with
my lens. O carnal world, I am
no longer your carp, shingled and hooked and
taken aback by
decay – 

I close my left eye,
tattle with night’s estuary;
I submit my right eye,
blank, clouds
already writing their
cursive upon it.

Lindsey Warren

Lindsey Warren is a graduate of Cornell University’s MFA program. She has been published in Rabid Oak, Josephine Quarterly, American Literary Review and Hobart, among others, and her poetry manuscript Unfinished Child is forthcoming from Spuyten Duyvil in 2020. Lindsey has been a finalist for the Delaware Literary Connection Prize and the Joy Harjo Prize.

Headshot: Lindsey Warren

Photo Credit: Mathew Haddad