a few small nips, by Lana Crossman

Tree of Hope, Remain Strong, by Frida Kahlo (Mexico) 1946

a few small nips
 
My splintered spine
is draped in dahlias
and cannas. Strong stems
snapping in the storm.
 
The knuckles that line
my back form a fist.
Am I the luchador,
or the vanquished?
 
I’m laced with scars.
smooth mounds cover
jagged bones so they don’t
catch in your throat.
 
Yet with every lover,
you feast on my marrow.
You devoured my toes
so I could no longer raise
 
myself to reach your lips.
Our cantos for revolution,
like so many women
rolling over in your bed.
​

​Lana Crossman

Lana Crossman: "Originally from rural New Brunswick (Canada), I live in Ottawa, Ontario. As a student, I studied art history and journalism, which led to many years of working in the arts, including at the National Gallery of Canada and the Canada Council for the Arts. My poetry was included in an online exhibition, Atlantic Vernacular (2021-22), in which poets were commissioned to write original poems inspired by the fine-craft works on display. My poems have been published in Arc Poetry Magazine, Pinhole Poetry, The Light Ekphrastic, and other journals. My chapbook, Buoyant, at last (Rose Garden Press, 2022), includes a poem inspired by Atlantic Canada artist Mary Pratt."