From Underwater Sarah Janczak (bio) No one is ever able to feel how farwe swim. How fast knives scrape skin. Plasma in water is still crimson.I never knew what logic was for anyway. At 12, I belly-flopped my stomach raw,just to learn to dive. We chew slowly. Savordessert, when we glide to the center of this table and lie so closeour whispers devour each other's devotion. There is no learninghere. I have already done that. My mouth commits the felonies fingerscannot. We sacrifice our hands for this. [End Page 265] After the Illness Came I Went Skinny as my spine,a silhouette,a bare branch.I don't know where it came fromonly, how it left mescarred, translucent.Disease sliced flanks of fleshas if hipswere butterand suddenly there were thousandsof men to feed.Invisibilitywas a needle, needles manageable.A zipped torsointo linen,into leather. Even [End Page 266] the afternoon windfelt like itwas lifting me;I could lean into it, and itwould carry meback to beforesteel or cold. Before I knewall the waysthat this bodycan forsake me. [End Page 267] Congenitus For Grace We are called mineral,gravel. We come heavyfrom palms that pounddough. From the depths of black water, gills of fish,marrow. We come from oil.We are called sunlighton tennis courts, sweat. Earth-rising fault linesthat shake, from limbslike snakes. Carrot seedand basil, summer, and all things holy.Lace tablecloths,sob stories, salted cod,an empty field for a front yard.We are called broken bootsand floodplains. The bottomof a well; dark, and damp,and misty. We stand [End Page 268] upright in our home.Sweep the floor, unlock the doors.There is already an open window. It is safeto let the night breeze in. [End Page 269] Sarah Janczak Sarah Janczak studied writing and women's history at Sarah Lawrence College. Her poems have recently appeared in Hayden's Ferry Review, the Los Angeles Review, and Witness. She can be reached at sejanczak@gmail.com. Copyright © 2018 Sarah Janczak
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