Second-Coming

Kersea Calhoun

I bow my head against her
thighs, shielding eyes from
empty dresser drawers.

Let all who thirst…

Parched mouth hums
against her folds, my
tongue coiled like
her hands in my hair.

Let all who toil…

Her moans resurrect
an appetite—
my body bread.

All who have nothing…

She heaves on top of me,
arms braced against
a parting.

Let all who seek…

My hands retrace skin
like a widow losing
count of rosary—

mouths part—

Come to the—

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Kersea Calhoun is a queer educator and single mother whose poetry and creative nonfiction explore intimacy, emotional rupture, memory, and identity. Her work fuses lyric and narrative modes, cataloging the breakdown of language and ritual. She holds a B.A. in English from Colorado Mesa University and an M.A. from Arizona State University. She lives and teaches in Maine.