Left here thought dead
I laugh knowing my body
Is not inhumed
Just waiting
For the lake to appear
Beneath sand which
Will almost certainly
Liquefy come morning
Turning bones into grain
In the water pushed inside
The stubborn mouth
Of some oyster
Already unnerved
Without knowing why
It feels a
Protracted scintilla
–
Anneysa Gaille grew up along the banks of Buffalo Bayou in Houston, Texas. In 2018, her chapbook, No Such Thing As, was published by the Center for the Study of Gender and Sexuality at the University of Chicago. Gaille worked on the Brooklyn Review from 2019 to 2021, serving as the Visual Arts and Poetry editor. She recently received her Poetry MFA from Brooklyn College, where she is an adjunct lecturer in the English Department.
© 2021, Anneysa Gaille