Bed
by and published in Edition Eight of Pomegranate
Jersey velvet swallows a whole wrapping of organs and it’s a feeling. It’s a feeling I get that sometimes it’s easier to just denature to just dehydrate to drive into a tunnel of cotton to go back to the dream of dreaming. A suffocation of curls sounds soothing to my neck, sometimes, when waking up is like reliving notebooks of pre-written words. My cocoons are changed today; polka dots will crumple into laundry and a coarseness will bind me tonight. They say it’s a new start, they say it’s a fresh start, a clean start; they say it’s the opportunity to reconnect with the outside. I say I have bile in my stomach and no enzymes in my cells, I can’t do my own wash but I don’t have to; don’t make the change, don’t strip my home, don’t run the vacuum because I’ve lived this week in flannel.
Molly Hanessian
Molly Hanessian is a 17 year old senior in high school. She attended the Iowa Young Writers’ Studio this past summer and is greatly indebted to all of the amazing students and teachers there. Her interests include prose poetry, alternative music, and biology. Molly will be studying English at Wesleyan University this fall.