Poetry, Megan Jauregui Eccles
Your letter came to me
as a sparrow that I unfolded
to read each word
Ink and blood
and feather and bone
The whisper beat of a tiny heart
soon to cease
Do you know the way your skin
unmakes me, that I would die
rather than give you up
Mulberries and iron
and wine and thistle
Your breath like a ship
drifting in the night
I write my love for you on the wings
of atlas moths and guide them
towards the light
Glitter and tea-leaves
and poppies and lace
Burn away the parts of me
that are not you
Megan Jauregui Eccles lives in the foothills of San Diego and is a writer, poet, and professor. When she’s not rehoming rattlesnakes, she plays Dungeons and Dragons with her five sons and hatches a variety of poultry. She holds an MFA in Fiction from UCR—Palm Desert. www.meganeccles.com