A POEM by STELLA VALLON

Leaving Home Forever

I’ve lost my copy of The Secret Life of Bees/I said to you from under the table/crouched and aching as if I had been wounded/I could not help but think of the mother then/that wooden virgin with a beating red heart/that hummed so loud the floorboards shook/eyes closed and storming/we coated her in honey and wept as it settled into her deep grooves/soothing her weathered body/making up for lost time/our hands raised high above our heads in rapture/there is music playing somewhere nearby but we do not hear it/this is enough/this hum and thump is enough/honey is a balm that heals even God’s wounds/I picked at the flaking linoleum with my
wet bitten fingers/feeling just six and snotting/I’ve lost my copy of The Secret Life of Bees/I said to you from under the table/crouched and aching as if I had been wounded/the bus is running outside


Stella (she/they) is a writer and multimedia artist based in Philly. Their art, whether it be written or played, centers around desire, adaptation, and anything sinuous or slimy. You can find her art on Instagram, Substack, and Spotify (or live!) @stellafromsteetcar.

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A POEM by SARAH J. WHITE