From Issue 2: Banshee

Erica Weaver I’ve seen her in the river wrapped in my clothes and know her low owlscreech is trying to replace me all night long the night pulls them down ⋅ those outbursts and there is no sound from which they are absent I wake up crying what is it you want from me and with what eyes are you watching? She turns my cups over throws out the flowers as long as you want as much as you want   Erica Weaver is a poet and critic, currently pursuing a Ph.D. in English at Harvard. A native Virginian, she…

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