Toward the Body by Simone Savannah

I can’t stop looking at children
I keep picking them up and imagining they are mine
Their noses, their fingers, the way the little girl’s eyes
have taken the shape of chocolate almonds.
If her name is Aniyah or Olivia, I know God is fucking with me.
I pick her up and want to kiss her, but just tickle her arms
so her mother doesn’t think I’m lonely or begging— Continue reading “Toward the Body by Simone Savannah”