Terracotta

I see myself spinning on the wheel, all wet and sepia, sloshing and
melting from pool to pool to ribboning canyon. A finger, a thumb
pressing the roundness … will I survive the burning? The kiln.









Gina Marie Mammanois a poet who likes to make readers want to lick the page, cloud gaze in the sky-bowls of their minds, or wipe the blood from their newly nicked soul. She has been published in numerous publications, including The Dos Passos Review, Pilgrimage Journal, Language and Culture, The Other Side, and Zafusy, among others, and lives in Washington state.