0:00This is one poem only, I'm Maggie Devers, one poem, nothing more, nothing less. Before today's poem, a quick note, right after submissions are now open a little longer through May 15th. If you've been meaning to write, there's still time. You can now submit through a form that I've linked in the show notes. Selected poems will be featured in June as part of a new series, One Poem After. Now, today's poem. Today's poem is by W. C. Quinn. Listen to the episode, then write your after poem. Abstract. My pieces appear skew, but I am no Picasso. Just a girl before I'm here, trying to love myself, despite the flaws in my reflection. I keep counting my brushstrokes, grooming tangles and penance. My tongue's burden is language. The she-wolf bellow calls to me.

1:01I don't reply. My words, sticky, sweet honey, smacking heavy in the roof of my mouth, splatters can visit kin to Pollock. My nightmares covet reality, so call me a dream walker, lucid surrealist, observing life like Dolly from below the waters, bearing witness to the metamorphosis of Narcissus. Unsure if I am art or artist. My heart stenciled with purpose in the face of perpetual loss. A girl with balloon, black and white statements, stricken with red accents, recognizable, unknown. By W. C. Quinn, if this poem stayed with you, you can find more of her work on Instagram and as told by W. C. Quinn. And on Substack at W. C. Quinn. Thank you for listening, Poetry Leather. Come back tomorrow.

2:02The curtain rises again.