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Jessica Hudson

                                   for SH 


she ate flowers for dinner / hibiscus stewed deep  

velvet against soft lobes of pineapple / tender  

& unpierced / the way her ears were twenty 

years ago / before a needle mimed a bullet &  

mined a hole deep enough to see through / gold 

rod she bled around for weeks / her mother shared 

the hibiscus tacos with her / took a bite then said 

i've never eaten warm avocado before / holiday wish  

lists of studs hoops drops dangles fishhooks / none 

in her jewelry box now / except the pearl snowmen  

she didn’t ask for & has never worn / but keeps 

because her mother gave them to her / driving  

home digesting petals in the passenger seat / she  

doesn’t know why she nodded when her mother  

asked / right before the needle burst into her  

lobe / if she was alright or why tonight / after  

her mother said i'm so happy you’re staying  

with us / she only thought to ask why? 

Jessica Hudson (she/her) received her Creative Writing MFA from Northern Michigan University. Her work has been published in over 30 literary magazines, and her first poetry chapbook is forthcoming from Nightingale & Sparrow Press. Jessica lives in Albuquerque, NM with an experimental artist and a black cat.  

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