I always forget I always remember to open the door to feed the foxes to close the chicken coop our hallway’s lengthening eye the width of my body the width of my body my dreams your hair, parabola-wrapped siren of a river flood the snake we found in wheatgrass humming its slumber I can never forget I can never remember
Originally from Vancouver, Canada, Alyson Kissner is completing her PhD in Creative Writing at the University of Edinburgh. Both her creative and critical practices centre themes of abuse, trauma, and tenderness. Alyson has most recently published in The Rumpus. She may be reached @alykissner for both questions and community.