I blew Bluets into her mouth in an impassioned embrace on Friday. Saturday in bed, she started spouting winning lottery numbers and uncorked a high-fidelity translation of the Upanishads. Definitely exciting, but taxing, too. The doctors recommend we temper our ardor. I think they mean I should shut my mouth. Instead, we’re going to double down on Maggie Nelson and connect our freckles with lines of Sapphic verse.
Gail Schulte was raised in a large clan of autoworkers and book lovers in suburban Detroit. Volunteer and professional projects have taken her from the seaside village of Bagamoyo, Tanzania, to Shrewsbury in the United Kingdom. A graduate of Michigan State University and the Vermont College of Fine Arts, her poems have appeared in La Piccioletta Barca, Kingfisher, and Sinister Wisdom: A Multicultural Lesbian Literary & Art Journal.
