Cory Willingham

Artisan

My life is absence with interludes of you.
I’ve been writing this poem since last October,
and now frostbite and ink have blackened my hands.

Your voice thaws me.

I learn to make new shapes with my mouth,
to let the warmth from my heart
spread to my face and fingers,
and for just one moment,
I glow.

Then the ice creeps
over my flesh,
coats my veins,
and I cease to be until next Spring.

_ _

Cory Willingham (they/them) is a transgender poet and activist living in Boston. They are interested in the very old, the very new, and the esoteric of every age. Connect with them via Twitter.

>> Back to Issue 24, 2021-22