Your hand on my thigh after a glass of white wine and I wish that I, too, could live without lungs. We seek spaces in our bodies soft and dark; we emerge with crooked wings. For you I will be translucent. Hold me up to the light. ____
Taylor Hamann Los holds an MLIS from the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee and is an MFA student at Lindenwood University. Her poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in CLOVES Literary, EVOKE, Split Rock Review, and Rust + Moth, among others. She lives with her husband and two cats in Wisconsin. You can find her on Twitter (@taylorhamannlos) or at taylorhamannlos.wordpress.com.