Two Poems by Emily Blair

this is how two women have sex

on her tongue, we recline
into white-topped waves that whisper
up the cove and back,
our feet pointed up toward what would be shore
if not for cliffs

she tries to talk, forgetting
I am straddling the tip of her tongue, red in its protrusion,
and I brace forearms against her eye teeth
for leverage

bobbing, she tells the story
of her father, of his hands, of the hair
on his knuckles, of just how
ice tastes
all the way down

and I nearly drown
in this place
of salt and bile

~*~

incidentals

sharp faced backbend
broke the flor open widow’s peak to chin
with just one movement,
so smooth we could be submerged
in a wave pool in the desert
where kids run from their parents
collarbone deep and the parents wonder
who they could blame
a drowning on

I hold hands flat to carry your blood to the sink
offer the clogged pipes iron,
wipe palms against stained porcelain,
chicken and unfertilized egg

but you are laughing
with teeth past lips
because you are not so much hurt as stunned
by what I can do
with my body

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Emily Blair is Punch Drunk Press’s third Featured Woman Writer this October. She is an Appalachian poet living and teaching English in central North Carolina. Her work can be found in Vagabond City, Spry Literary Magazine, The Fem Lit Magazine, and Crab Fat Magazine, among others. She currently serves on the editorial teams at Rabble Lit, a working class literary magazine, and Screen Door Review, a project focused on queer Southern art and writing.

Featured Image from the photo series “Fresh II” by David Rodriguez. View full image here.

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