Aaron Brame is the former senior poetry editor at the Pinch Journal. He is the winner of Synaesthesia Magazine’s 2015 poetry contest, and his
work also appears in Lumina, Hartskill Review, Kindred, and Pembroke Magazine. He teaches eighth-grade English in Memphis, Tennessee.
No man can predict these rains.
So we enter this maze hoping to become lost,
this place of unreasoning weeds,
of cracked and useless pipe.
How many graves are here?
The rain sets the air to wobbling, the mole
to thrashing in its nameless cave. The witch
dreaming of the match.
I hid her (heart) in a pocket inside
of another pocket. I give my life to her bed.
Why do they fear the snakebitten girl?
She’s not the poisonous one.