"Negative Space" by Grace Lynn

It is a good day when I find you,

a petal of peony caught up in the wind

or puzzling out the sky’s bent dipper

over pancakes before school.

Each night the moon-dish splits

open like a honeydew

its starry lake

on a floating branch.

Light falls from this dark

as shining pennies

we flung in the Trevi Fountain

for luck we didn’t once need.

We’re out in the garden

as cells, Mad Libs, Motown, Hercules,

principally as ourselves.

There is never an outbound flight

from the status quo/shock of being.

When sun rises early, I walk silently

through underbrush,

find your shape. Where am I?

Somewhere my desire throws me,

somewhere private like a bathroom stall

but grave and new

where there will always be,

no matter the speed dial of years,

a hum of electricity, a crackle of fronds,

an us, myself

whispering, you are not the kind

of body

to catch this gossamer creature.

Grace Lynn is an emerging painter who lives with a chronic illness. Her work explores the intersections between faith, the natural world, art and the body. In her spare time, Grace enjoys listening to Bob Dylan, reading suspense novels and investigating absurd angles of art history.