I have been thinking in verse this week (as a way in to thinking about prose) about women and writing and here’s what came out.
Naming the animals
I have thought of silence for some time now,
imagined the space between us
disappear inch by inch,
or expand in exponents settling
at the average human distance:
abyss. I like the sudden drop
when I turn off the street, shut my door
the squeal light bulbs make when even the cat
is sleeping. But today I heard the sound of falling.
The quiet that followed the bite of the apple,
the slip out the gate
that gap before Adam first shouted her name.