the natality of missing him by Samantha Reilly

cult of the inner thigh, he rests his

head here, as filling as the brown bread and

oil in the tent of exodus.

in a nonnative language, he tells me

the vowel pointings of his name. i forget them,

forget the feel of his nape, forget the

bone broth he asked for. there are rituals now,

and he’s buried miles from the valleys of nebo.

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Samantha Reilly is a PhD student in religion, the ancient Near East, and Freudian method