[Redacted](for your sake)

bite marks where I’d used my right hand 

in substitute of a cloth 

or my tongue 

or restraint 

proven futile

as the syllables of a name 

persisted in an ugly way 

like noxious creatures blistering my throat and crawling out of the cracks between my teeth 

it echoed.

catching a number produced three times on a clock – I heard your name

on the drive back home – I heard your name

against a coarse carpet, feeling heavy enough to fall through the floor and miles past it – your name in a hundred thousand refrains 

sometimes even in my own voice, puttered sweetly some days ago – 

lips meeting and puckering 

then front teeth grazing 

then cheeks tugging 

a phonetic ritual of mine

meant to honor you 

but then that grisly detonation in my larynx like sacrilege 

attested that I’d forgotten how to say it 

Isabel Scarpino (She/Her)

I’m a silly kid that writes silly little poems and that’s all there is to it. All of my best secrets are revealed in verse.