Among the Losses
By Anya Silver
My lamentations have shaken loose locusts.
They whir in the burned-out nave of my body.
In the shower, whole decades wash from my body.
A girl’s hairless limbs emerge naked from the spray.
Among the losses: tube tops, demicups, skin-kissing
chocolate lace. Dreamy clutter of the desired body.
Obsessively, I imagine Christmas photographs without me.
Gold and crimson. My son. Another woman’s body.
Among the losses: death as metaphor, as my body
floating in salt waves, carried back to the waters.
Many days, I want to throw my fists against God’s body.
But nothing, nothing.
Hold me, all you saints and angels. Don’t let life,
like a child struggling in my arms, climb out of my body.
This poem was published in the Fall 2019 issue of The Georgia Review: "The poems in this issue are from “Saint Agnostica,” a manuscript Silver completed just before her death in August 2018 after more than a decade of battling breast cancer."