The cliffside acts as morsel to the sea
water feasting on rock
Collapsible chairs sit unevenly along the cliff’s edge

This is a wedding
My wedding day
A marriage of body and body
But for me
it is a reckoning
This dormant queerness in me erupts

And somewhere
my father sits
my mother and sister too
waiting for the ceremony to begin
But offstage
I am threading my feet with the floorboards

Eventually
I come onto center stage
Announce
I am transparent
and bathe in the silence

An audience forms
their applause monstrous
drumming away at their palms
And a giant woman
hundreds of feet tall
bends to kiss my forehead

eric morris (he/she/they) is a writer and sensitive soul currently bending the edges of their tarot cards in Hopkinsville, KY. They hold a B.A. in English from the University of Nebraska–Lincoln and have worked editorially with HG Literary, Prairie Schooner, and Split/Lip Press among others. When they are not professionally overthinking, eric finds time to read, lightly strum their bass guitar, and play video games. Their work appears or is forthcoming in Laurus, BUBBLE, Stanchion, Embryo Concepts, and Wild Roof Journal.