after Anne Sexton’s “Yellow”

When I finally feel safety 
again I’ll work it around in my mouth
until it’s all balled up, I’ll spit it out, I’ll 
bury it shallow in a loamy field. I’ll plant a shield 
of sunflowers around it, I’ll encircle them with apricot
pits, I’ll pluck every downy feather in sight, 
I’ll write a poem called Feral and wrap
it around the naked animal I live in to plume it
well again, I’ll give myself so many names and
everyone will be jumping at the chance to say
them and the planet will be cooler and it will offer
enough for all of us and there will be no such thing 
as inevitable doom and there will be a love-curse 
for everyone and we will never remember, not 
a single unzipped thing, we’ll be always prim and 
full and unwilted, won’t we?

A. Prevett (they/them) is a human from Atlanta. Their recent poems have been featured in or are forthcoming from Sixth Finch, Cherry Tree, Puerto del Sol, and others. They are pursuing an MFA from Georgia State University. You can find them online at alecprevett.com or on Twitter under the handle @a_prevett.