And since you are part of this world, you too are changeable after Ovid’s Metamorphoses an axolotl, to regrow my cut off limbs, parts of the heart still beating beneath the water, iodizing myself toward land and what of those leaves you gave me in june? especially the one i kept pressed in a book, a little cry betwixt these metamorphoses Ovid prayed we’d remove ourselves from this self-taught banishment, this black & blue sea borne ten times over by swallowed sand but this is to say: i am not asking you to be concerned by my hurt, only by my change the way flowers ripped from soil will only wilt
About the Author: V.S. Ramstack is a poet breathing in Chicago. She received her BA in English + Gender, Women, & Sexuality studies from University of Minnesota and her MFA from Columbia College Chicago. Previous work can be found in Posit, Curator Magazine, Anti-Heroin Chic, Across the Margin, and elsewhere.
Image Credit: Charles Aubry “Flower Still Life” Digital image courtesy of the Getty’s Open Content Program