In Which She Is
by Betty Stanton
Burned, in which she is the fire
embers spark in our dark open
chests, smoke where
fire licked &
kissed on open palms
we write ash
you ignite,
scorch & reflect
not yet glass
Howl, in which she is the wolf
the keening roar
through eyelid & bone &
our offered throats
skins
ribs
bare feet
where warmth was hunger
was fang
was soft panting, anguish full
Drift, in which she is the fog
a thick ache,
tongue coated, her memory
slips slick with salt & silver
low-lying weight where a
name
used to be
we stain the air with forgetting
press shapes into the skin
embers spark in our dark open
chests, smoke where
fire licked &
kissed on open palms
we write ash
you ignite,
scorch & reflect
not yet glass
Howl, in which she is the wolf
the keening roar
through eyelid & bone &
our offered throats
skins
ribs
bare feet
where warmth was hunger
was fang
was soft panting, anguish full
Drift, in which she is the fog
a thick ache,
tongue coated, her memory
slips slick with salt & silver
low-lying weight where a
name
used to be
we stain the air with forgetting
press shapes into the skin
About the author
Betty Stanton (she/her) is a Pushcart nominated writer who lives and teaches in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in various online and print publications. Some of her favorite recent publications can be found in Susurrus, The Medley, and narrated on the Midwest Weird podcast. She received her MFA from the University of Texas – El Paso and also holds a doctorate in educational leadership. She is currently on the editorial board of Ivo Review. @fadingbetty.bsky.social