Surge
When my belly filled
then emptied,
my breasts filled
then emptied
daily for months
they surfaced—
the silvery stretch marks
I tried to swab away with cocoa butter
hieroglyphs of the body
breaching its skin
as the self, cresting, labors
to crack itself open
to a world
bound by someone else’s
bargains of power
bellied white sails
threading
rough shallows
as waters rush
to flood
the wide river delta—
now I pry myself open
and submit to the swell
a wreck tumbling in surf
emptying then filling
….
This poem is from the book Dividing Rivers by Ivy Schweitzer (Finishing Line Press), and can be found at https://www.finishinglinepress.com/product/dividing-rivers-by-ivy-schweitzer/
Born in Brooklyn, NY, Ivy Schweitzer has lived for many years in Vermont and taught English and Women’s, Gender, and Sexuality Studies at Dartmouth College. Her poetry has appeared, most recently, in Passager, Ritualwell, Tikkun, New Croton Review, Mississippi Review, Spoon River Poetry Review, Mid-Atlantic Review and The New England Poetry Club’s Prize Winners’ Anthology 2024. Dividing Rivers is her debut solo collection. For her collaborative work, visit her author page at https://sites.dartmouth.edu/ivyschweitzer/.
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