There is no fathoming these waters. You’re the cello in this piece? I was a cello too. Let’s speak in music instead and splash pianos on each other.
There is one fathoming of these waters buttons sink from my shirt before a dive when learning two things about breaking men’s legs.
There are two fathoming these waters, then wings, half this lake for you and half for me love.
Amelia Gorman is a recent transplant to Eureka, California where she enjoys exploring the redwoods and coasts with her dogs and foster dogs. Some of her recent poetry has appeared in Penumbric, Vastarien, and The Deadlands and her first chapbook, Field Guide to Invasive Species of Minnesota, is available from Interstellar Flight Press. Her weird fiction appears in the Nightscript series, Nox Pareidolia from Nightscape Press, and She Walks in Shadows from Innsmouth Free Press. Find her online at www.ameliagorman.com or on twitter at @gorman_ghast.
H.V. Cramond holds an MFA from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago and was the founding Poetry Editor of Requited Journal for 10 years. In 2018, she helped pass the Survivor’s Bill of Rights as the Illinois organizer for Rise. Recent work can be found in Soundless Poetry, Ignavia, death hums, Crack the Spine, BlazeVOX, Menacing Hedge, Adanna, So to Speak, Thank You for Swallowing, Dusie, Masque & Spectacle, Matter, and at https://hvcramond.com