The hearts of fish
have only two.
Snow and sun,
and slipping lungs;
this winter
weightless,
the wood stack thick
with snake skins,
anything
to enclose the space
with which we don’t know
what to do,
blood pumping:
bed, bullet, tomb.
Chambers
Sarah Kilch Gaffney is a writer, brain injury advocate, and homemade caramel aficionado living in Maine. You can find her work at www.sarahkilchgaffney.com.