I Am Not Watercolor by Leah Vitello

Wind by Natalie Voelker

after Anne Sexton

Shaping clay in deep shadow all night, I glaze
            plates with red sunset and volcanic fury.

He is with her. Hiding behind the dark hair of the careful one
            with thin hands and a stick-and-poke tattoo, my husband

nightly speaks of wearied love in whispers. Not to me.
            Meanwhile, our cherubs sleep soundlessly.

All our past sunsets disappear, offering him time to pursue lust.
            A crack forms in my earthenware jar

and when I break, he will slice
            fruit sitting prettily in a broken bowl.

Leah Vitello

Leah Vitello is a 23 year old from Connecticut. She holds a BA in English from Lynchburg College in Lynchburg, VA and is pursuing an MA in Composition and Rhetoric at the University of South Carolina. : homeandthewanderer.wordpress.com