i suck something soft
from between the bones
of a dead baby cow, i am
a woman with huge incisors
and i am alone under
the hair that sprouts from my scalp

they have a name for women
whose arms drag
on the ground when they walk
whose claws stretch
above treetops when they dream

women like me,
who are ravenous
see blood, eat blood, drip blood
who were raised by vultures and the bones
that jab into the soft under ribs

my knees are scabby and warm
in front of this fire i built—
i hear a howl across the canyon—
i gnash my teeth and smile.

Anne Overton (BC '23; she/her/hers) is a Psychology & English major from California and Hawaii. She enjoys the water, meditation, and her pet rabbit. You can find her on Instagram and Facebook.