By strega clare manning
slurping soft udon before
we use our warm lips to utter the word
“bi,” in the backseat of your
car, idling in front of my dorm.
the roots wrapped around my aorta
would not budge
until i dared to water them with shades
of openness, the promise of an entire
garden blooming right here climbing
vines and thick petals brought out into
the sunlight. this is the first time i have
allowed myself to believe i am real.
strega clare manning is a 25-year-old poet based in Baltimore, Maryland. her work has been accepted and published by various presses and literary journals, such as Indie Blue, Fifth Wheel Press, and Voicemail Poems. she writes primarily about the complicated nature of interpersonal relationships and her queer identity.