Two Poems
MICHELLE WATTS



​Sigh on my Wrist

        I stare at the mirror until I become a word said too many times      a person twisted away  an aura of northern lights  until I become your name   initialed into my bones  carved ten years deep      I wait playing truth or dare   with our ghosts    you move your hand to yes then no    the board of our lives how do you know if a language   is dead or liminal    my eyes fissure until there is ten of me   all the doors open  headlights swim on the ceiling   footsteps trace your camera-eye   like a sigh on my wrist  I look directly where you should be  but you drift like my phantom  we creak with the house    a leftover haunting if I stare at this mirror long enough   

          will you show up beside me   

                                                        will you show up beside me

                                                                                                     will you show up beside me 











THE ADIRONDACK REVIEW
COPYRIGHT © 2000–2019
ISSN: 1533 2063
SPRING 2019

Coyote & Wolf

I cling to your November husk—

                                                     you off into the woods to hunt the other her  

            I hum into your body-print low prayers in maps & echo blood                    my answer—
you are no longer a drop of lavender on dried skin I corkscrew into my indigo sight waiting for headlights to kindle your return                      I swell over these talismen:
                       a carved coyote            tawny wolf               the prettier one is you in Taos

a knife carved X on their noses & all of my senses    howling at my moon eyes from their shelf













MICHELLE WATTS is a poet and artist from Oklahoma City. Her multi-media chapbook, Dis(__), was recently published by Dancing Girl Press. She is a Creative Writing graduate from the University of Central Oklahoma.