MICRO

holy orders

By EMILIA JOAN HAMRA | 25 APR 2022

By Viviane Sassen — Photo by Руслан Гамзалиев

seep of dune sand to fondle your
long feet to kiss your white hem
gliding over the bodycount of
moths fallen dead on gypsum
still more fall around you
gigantic as angels like snow
like ash like aftermath
of eruption or wildfire of
waiting for an august monsoon
gypsum and corpses and you
and everything sunbleached
pure white as priesthood as
secrets of men and i hunched
witchdark beyond the moths
a small shadow watching

Emilia Joan Hamra lives in Philadelphia, where she founded and edits The Shoutflower. She studied Creative Writing at Arizona State University, has worked as a copy-editor for Four Way Books, and was the recipient of the national Norman Mailer College Poetry Award. Her work is published in Occulum, giallo lit, Recenter Press, Santa Ana River Review, and others.