You Come Home from a Trip Away

by Catherine Graham 

The inverted cry lodged in my chest
trips my sprocket back toward silence.

The spiked mathematical rhythm
that knows more than I see.

Muscle-bomb knowing each tick
clicks to the beat of no footsteps.

Fist-sized, ventricle maps.
Bloodlines in and out. Clean

and not clean, speaks infarction.

— from Juniper Volume 1, Issue 3