My Ribbon
Tahjia Brantley
becomes your ribbon
is your child. I am more
like the wall. My lifemark,
I wear your talented ink.
Hammered by jack,
the vertigo sets in.
My fullest slope
lies with Jill, I
flash primary.
First meeting is
last. The opposable,
is green —both
hands so ruby.
My body as
scrimmage,
a coloring book.
I zip my denim past
my forehead
but the serial rings
sharp. Nerves knew
before walnut.
A premonition of
your scary score,
my friable system.
Tahjia Brantley is a Jersey-born poetess living in Iowa City. She is a Workshopper, a Maharishi dropout, and a waitress.