Dry Leaves by Louis Staeble
Concealed Carry by M. J. Arlett
Long-toothed night, briefest sunlight of the year,
my ex sends a photo, metal warming
in a holster against his stomach, tells me
if I see him again, he could be wearing a weapon.
You won’t be able to tell, he says.
He does not know how I conceal,
how some days I am heavy
with indifference and others all I have
to spare are the swarms
beneath my skin. I feel them, scratch,
one day they’ll break through,
apoidean flood.
There are many ways to die and I
have always been curious,
hours clocked investigating air disasters,
water landings, medieval torture, spontaneous
combustion. Don’t pretend you don’t.
I know you smuggle sordid thoughts out
when the light is lowest.
M. J. Arlett is an MFA candidate at Florida International University. She was born in the UK, spent several years in Spain and now lives in Miami. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Lunch Ticket, Poet Lore, Mud Season Review, The Boiler Journal, Tinderbox Poetry and elsewhere.
Louis Staeble, fine arts photographer and poet, lives in Bowling Green, Ohio. His photographs have appeared in “Agave”, “Blinders Journal”, “Blue Hour”, “Conclave Journal”, "Elsewhere Magazine", “GFT Magazine”, “Fifth Wednesday Journal”, “Four Ties Literary Review”, "Inklette Magazine", “Microfiction Monday”, "Paper Tape Magazine", “Qwerty”, “Revolution John”, “Rose Red Review”, “Sonder Review”, “Timber Journal”, “Tishman Review” and “Your Impossible Voice”. His web pages can be viewed either at http://staeblestudioa.weebly.com or http://lstaebl.wix.com/closeup.
