I’m The Plant
do you think
whoever was here
in this body
before me
hasn’t left all the way
I find remnants of her
scratching at the corners
of my mouth
she pulls apart the lips
until my grin
is too big and panicked
though I’m afraid
I can’t help but to explore
finding more of her
broken bits tucked
into muscle memories
sometimes my fingers forget
and start to play the piano
into the air
before they remember
I have no talent
sometimes I wake to teeth
snapping at my tongue
and I wonder if it’s her
warning me I am nothing but
a flower planted
in the deathbed
of other flowers
Bryanna Licciardi is an educator and writer who's lived in too many places to claim any one home. She's the author of poetry chapbook Skin Splitting (Finishing Line Press, 2017) and full-length collection Fish Love (Alternating Current Press, 2024). When not teaching, her favorite roles include cat mom and technical supporter for a local reading series, Poetry in the Boro. You can find her work in journals such as Poetry Quarterly, BlazeVOX, Peacock Journal, and Cleaver Magazine. Or just check out her website at www.bryannalicciardi.com.
