Her girth
renders mute, her beauty
a heartache to witness.
Reduced, feel her skin,
run hands up her body.
To be inside another living thing
—a comfort.
She teaches the way to root—
shallow but widespreading.
Something akin to lust, I feel
something akin to devotion,
wash hands in glacial streams,
blue-tinged green.
-Lisa Archer
Lisa Archer is a poet and essayist. Originally from Ithaca, NY, she has migrated to Southwestern Virginia for a few seasons. She holds an MFA in Creative Writing from Hollins University.