The stag’s heart spoke (as it passed through my throat) of desire. I’ve held the strangest of strangers. To swallow, the quickest way to
Mini-Cleopatras of the backyard creek, what faith shakes us from the bone of make-believe? Sometimes lions, we stretch sun-lengthened limbs, laugh fierce bells of
Erin Rodoni earned her MFA in poetry from San Diego State University. Her poems have appeared or will appear in Best New Poets 2014,
