portion of the artwork for Scarlett Peterson's poem

In the Heat
Scarlett Peterson

The water glass on the nightstand may go flying. I may knock a good many pastries off the counter with stray ankles and knees should the situation arise, though in the morning I’ll be apt to pick them up and hope their wrapping held. We’ll need breakfast, we’ll need our energy. I’m none too keen to cook when we can be kneading in different ways.

I’ll be spread open like a collector’s edition, a volume to be devoured.

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FRiGG: A Magazine of Fiction and Poetry | Issue 51 | Spring/Summer 2018