A Brief History of Skin
In the infinite meadows of heaven,
Blossomed the loverly stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels.
—Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Evangeline: A Tale of Acadie
Return it, the moles constellating my right shoulder,
deep brown poultice. My husband once kissed
his way into its world. Bless it, biopsy knife
swiping through my flesh, my faith Unname it
Nevus spilus, little Andromeda galaxy stretching my skin,
its infinite halo of dark matter. Unwhisper the word
melanoma, those sleepless weeks I swore
it glimmered, debris from an exploded star.
Unclench my hand from its jigger of vodka,
uncurl my husband’s touch from my shoulder.
Unwhisper the words cancer, mother.
Unburden my skin from the blazing Utah May,
where, one spring, the sun ravaged me.
Untangle me from recklessness, untruss
the tumors from my mother’s blood.
Return her record player’s needle shirring
through scarred vinyl, Mick Jagger throating
blues through her house on Victory Drive.
Rebridle her hair to its messy knot,
unveil the dime-sized mole on the back of her neck.
Give them back, my father’s words for it—
forget-me-not of the angels, plush field of stars.
Give her back her body when she still loved
my father, when I still moved within her.
But if you can give me nothing, God,
return her name for me—little one,
infinite meadow of heaven.
- The Wardrobe’s Best Dressed: Apostasies by Holli Carrell - May 6, 2026
- The Wardrobe’s Best Dressed: Apostasies by Holli Carrell - May 5, 2026
- We Call Upon the Author to Explain—Timothy Geiger - May 4, 2026



