I can’t remember how long it’s been
since I’ve sung a whole song, painted

a whole picture, written a poem whole
enough to make me love who I am

& all the while, my throat is full
of broken notes                       small blue-winged

swallows. They stab at flesh beneath my tongue.
The sun forgives me the next day.

Skin around my neck is raw & coarse.
How could anything sweet & mellow live there?

I am afraid to open my mouth:                 for fear
that something rouge & ominous waits,

for fear that dew is meant for drowning
& grass for slitting ankles & wrists—

for fear that those blue-winged swallows
will escape without taking me with them.

Thomas Kneeland is the author of We Be Walkin’ Blackly in the Deep (Marian University Department of Media, Communication, and Design), and one of ten 2022 Frontier Poetry Global Poetry Prize finalists for the continent of Africa. He is the Founder and Editor-in-Chief of The Elevation Review. His poetry is published in or forthcoming from The Rumpus, Up the Staircase Quarterly, South Florida Poetry Journal, INverse Poetry Archives, Rigorous Magazine, and elsewhere. Kneeland holds a BA in English Writing from DePauw University, an MA in Ministry from Wesley Seminary at Indiana Wesleyan University, and an MFA in Poetry from Butler University.