The last time I was inside of your apartment
the carpet melted under the smoke and I watched it
mutilate the hem of my trousers.
I shocked you with tears,
clockwise, and off-key.
There are ghosts of cicadas buzzing
inside of your amplifier and I am sleep-breathing, trying
not to move my chest. Peer over me like roadkill, unrecognizable.
Wonder if I will survive the night.
Forge a deal between two moons,
cheating with death.
I want to carry your heart in my purse–
take it with me to the movies, listen to its company.
Revisit the matinee–the dog is always first to die,
stomach slit, torn on dry grass.
Mayzie Sattler graduated from Boston University in 2021 with a BA in English. Several of her pieces have been recognized in the university’s undergraduate literary publication, The Beacon. Sattler is newly enrolled at Stony Brook University planning to earn her MFA in poetry at Southampton Arts in 2025. Originally from upstate New York, she currently lives and works in Philadelphia.