You Wolf You
We named the bed Lola
and the stove Pristine
and played house until
we got landlocked with floods
What happened to those floods
I get frozen by the idea of water so great
and words so many I have to pick
the driest and most safe
where pencil draws behind
without ink or typeface
to screw up the depression
that comes after a water world
We cooked a cream soup
with ginger compote
singing in the back of our tongues
When we cut through dairy
with our teeth
You didn’t even
need a knife
Grey eyes with red lines
Line red with eyes grey
You wolf you
I try to emulate you
Ruth Lehrer is a writer and sign language interpreter living in western Massachusetts. Her fiction and poetry have been published in journals such as Jubilat, DecomP, and Trivia: Voices of Feminism. She is the author of the poetry chapbook, TIGER LAUGHS WHEN YOU PUSH. Her novel, BEING FISHKILL, will be published by Candlewick Press in 2017. She can be found here
