the madrigal, volume ii
What I Miss
by ashley sapp
Start the day:
shoveling fog into your mouth for breakfast.
The mist of the morning curls in your stomach
and drifts between your lips, a swallow away
from hardening, a pellet upon the altar.
Recall: it begins in the pit below your ribs,
that sensitive spot where the blades slice
cleanly, quick, neat: a cavity gaping for circumstance.
I remember now. How the ache pings after,
an echo that can almost be heard as it settles
like haze in the sunlight. Even the fog has its dawn.
I hear it: the beginning. The haunt of day recedes,
and I yearn for the kind of pain that has no origin.
You discover it: here. Turn it over. Eat that, too.
Ashley Sapp (she/her) resides in Columbia, South Carolina, with her dog, Barkley. She earned a Bachelor of Arts degree in English from the University of South Carolina in 2010, and her work has previously appeared in Indie Chick, Variant Lit, Emerge Literary Journal, Common Ground Review, and elsewhere. Ashley has written two poetry collections: Wild Becomes You and Silence Is A Ballad. She can be found on Twitter @ashthesapp and Instagram @ashsappley. Website: https://linktr.ee/ashsappley