with words from an interview by Rita Moreno on the red carpet
I wear the galaxy like a dress: little suns
bending in their own orbit. Their tongues
hammered into darkness you would think
they would tarnish. I keep telling myself
everything that is gold stays gold. It took
a while for me to learn down here eclipse
is another word for skin. I’m transparent
in mine. Please, don’t take me for tragic.
Nothing attracts prey like it used to.
In certain parts of the world, disease
is a dog cloaked in the sky’s marrow. If I
belonged to you, I’d go hungry for myself.
—
Amanda Gomez is a poet residing in Norfolk, VA, where she received her MFA in poetry at Old Dominion University. Some of her poems have appeared in Tupelo Quarterly, Academy of American Poets (online), and North American Review, which she was a finalist for the 2018 James Hearst Poetry Prize.