Sarah Brockhaus

I itch for repetition, superstition. Bury

the cow horn even if it seems silly. Let’s combine


our rot tonight, grow warm under our surface. Let’s be 

amalgamation, I’ll collect the calcium from the eggshell


if you’ll cover the carbon from the maple leaves. We know 

where magic lives, we’ve heard the tree root whisper. We’re made 


to hold: a kind womb, a sweet placenta. When we’ve 

decomposed ourselves new, let’s give it up again. I want


to be cyclical, I want to be your year after year after year—


Headshot | Sarah Brockhaus


SARAH BROCKHAUS is a creative writing student at Salisbury University. Her poems can be found in Sugar House Review, New South, Roanoke Review, The Shore, Broadkill Review, and others.