In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

  • The Tanner’s Bride
  • Erin Lynch (bio)

I move into the reek of tepid flesh, learn to scrape hides and on them needlepoint vines from cobwebs. Last night you touched me

with such attention I felt it would be wrong to move. Since you do not ask my secrets, I have stopped having them. Still I rebind

my journal in deer skin and run a finger down the spine. What last I wrote: Have my eyes becomeempty ant hills? Can kindness

be a kind of quartering? Curled around my knees on the wolf skin rug, I wish I could fit in its jaws. The rug hides

a trapdoor into the room where you stroke the limp haunch of a doe. Peeling her skin, you are quiet and engrossed.

Stretched out above, I dream of running through a forest of pelts, pursued. I come to a pool and bend over it to find

I am a hind with lacerations for eyes. Part of her always takes flight. Though your fist pounds the trap door, my body is a latch you can’t lift. [End Page 39]

Erin Lynch

Erin Lynch received her MA in English from University of North Texas, where she currently teaches. Her poems have previously appeared in Cream City Review.



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p. 39
Launched on MUSE
Open Access
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