what I’m trying to say is I’m becoming myself and every trip to the river is a regression that is becoming harder and harder to wear I’m asking for space to be, but when I told my mother I took my vows of refuge she just said, “great— now you’re going to be mad about me killing the wasps” and I said, “mom I’ve always been mad about you killing the wasps” and there it was: nothing ever changes despite the importance we place on these moments nobody is despite the warpaint and the mating dances and the trapper keepers, together trapped and trapping each other like rabbits, all of us canaries with clipped wings
Skylar Alexander is a writer, teacher, and graphic designer living in Iowa City, IA. She serves as the assistant director of the Young Emerging Writers Program at the Midwest Writing Center and as chair of the Iowa Youth Writing Project's Community Advisory Council. Her writing has appeared in or is forthcoming from Forklift, Ohio: A Journal of Poetry, Cooking, and Light Industrial Safety, Hobart, PromptPress, Poetry City, USA, and elsewhere. She received her BA in English and Entrepreneurial Management from the University of Iowa.