Samuel Hovda
After sex you said
I fell back into male,
tiredness, no longer wanting
to submit. Two years
you tried to love this me. I’m
gorgeous when no one
looks. Touch me in silk
and care. Spider eats her mate. I devour
me, corpse and grave. Bride
and the father
giving her away. I echoes. I falls
into mouth, skin chapped, so red
I might be morning.
SAMUEL HOVDA was born and raised in rural Minnesota. He now attends the MA program in Creative Writing at the University of Wisconsin–Eau Claire. His poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Nashville Review, Red Paint Hill, Tinderbox Poetry Journal, and Word Riot, among others. You can find him at SamuelHovda.com and on Twitter @SamuelHovda.