Late Postpartum Dream Sequence
You are bound with thick ribbons
knots at your wrists, knees, ankles, waist.
Anywhere you might break.
You might break anywhere.
Bright silk, colorful.
Constricting blood flow.
You tied them all yourself.
Now you pull at a loose end
until it unspools.
Now you flex your naked wrist,
which is healed,
which was never broken.
….
This poem first appeared in Literary Mama, and can be found in the chapbook Commodore Rookery by Christy Lee Barnes (Finishing Line Press) at https://www.finishinglinepress.com/product/commodore-rookery-by-christy-lee-barnes/

Christy Lee Barnes is an educator and poet from Los Angeles, now transplanted to Seattle, Washington, where she lives with her husband and son. Her publications include McSweeney’s, Spillway, Prairie Schooner, Plume, and Tin House. She has worked as a public school teacher in the Los Angeles area and as a WITS poetry teacher with Seattle Public Schools.