By Danielle Johnson
first, my hand inside the opening of a galaxy
swirling with fishing line and blood. Age
makes me unafraid, so I reach—feel the give
of this bruise colored skin. I feel for the
mollusk shell that carries only silt and sand. Here,
the unsexiness of it all. The sloughing my
mother taught me never to show. But I say
it’s beautiful, to know every organ, bristle and bone.
Danielle Johnson is an MFA candidate in poetry at Georgia College and State University. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in the Garfield Lake Review, The Oakland Arts Review, and elsewhere. In past lives, she founded the Writers Under Thirty Reading Series with Great Lakes Commonwealth of Letters, and was a undergraduate creative writing student at Grand Valley State University. In the present, Danielle is the poetry editor of Goat’s Milk Magazine.
Art by Issue 9 featured artist, Emily Truman
Emily has displayed work at various galleries, including “Nasty Women” in Philadelphia and “Vulvacular” in Chelsea, NYC. In addition to being in the process of becoming a teaching artist with South Central PaARTners through Millersville University, Emily holds a free monthly bring-your-own-everything collage workshop at Lancaster Art Studios, and teaches monthly workshops at The Candy Factory. Follow her on instagram at @collage__dropout.