Speaking of sound
The evening demands one hour of self-care,
a hot bath. I indulge it, sink into a blue tub,
soak for what seems like enough, get up
& plant wet feet on a plush mat.
Then move to the mirror & watch for
a freckled face to appear in the glass
–is it part of me?
Pressed to the frame, I strain to see beneath.
Rising in thick waves, fog conceals the body.
*
I close my eyes & dream–
a bronzed hand reaching beyond or through
to accept the sacrifice of a vulnerable moment.
You were like that, pursuing me without intent.
My soft voice sailed into your ears, your head,
a hollow cave of listening. In the end, I left.
Still you pleaded with me, wanting something,
swore you were up for anything. So, I fashioned you
into a key to unleash the fable inside me.
& I waited.
*
I think of sirens & singing to you
what I sing to myself, to the moon.
Would you dare to forfeit the song?
–a fish swallowed whole, curled
& quivering in my breastbone.
A sea snake in shallow water
is most dangerous when it wakes
from playing dead.
Sarah Marquez (24) is an MA candidate at Southern New Hampshire University. Her work is forthcoming in Amethyst Review and Marías at Sampaguitas. When not writing, she can be found reading, sipping coffee, or tweeting @Sarahmarissa338.
Image: “Candy Floss” By Juliette Sebock
Juliette Sebock is the author of Mistakes Were Made and Micro and has work forthcoming or appearing in a wide variety of publications. She is the founding editor of Nightingale & Sparrow, runs a lifestyle blog, For the Sake of Good Taste, and is a regular contributor with Marías at Sampaguitas and Royal Rose. Currently, she is curating the Screaming from the Silence anthology and working on a variety of personal and freelance projects. When she isn't writing (and sometimes when she is), she can be found with a cup of coffee and her cat, Fitz. Juliette can be reached on her website or across social media @juliettesebock.