by Polina Solovyeva

This is the way it goes:
the Hudson River is full
of rotting green bananas
that smell like dead fish.
I want to put my
feet into the river’s
flesh and think
about how his
skin smells the strongest
right under his
bellybutton and how
I press my ear
against it listening
to his insides.
The Hudson River is full
of rotten cigarette butts
and stories that repeat over
and over again.
I want the sand
on the bottom
to know how it feels
when he traces the holy cross
over my body:
my forehead
below my stomach
my right breast
my left breast
and then laughs
about Jesus Christ.
I whisper to the dead
fishes of the Hudson river
about how my teeth
hurt when he
kisses my waist
from behind
and how there are no
excuses for craving
to feel so wanted over
and over again.
This is the way it goes:
the meat is raw
the homeless men are burned down
the Hudson river is fleshy.
I want to fill my mouth with its sand,
feel its dead water sucking my skin,

and scream about the smell of his tongue.


Author Biography: Polina Solovyeva is originally from Moscow, Russia, but currently studies at The Hotchkiss School in Lakeville, CT. She attended the New England Young Writers’ Conference at Breadloaf and graduated from the Iowa Young Writers’ Studio in Iowa City. She works at the Glass Kite Anthology literary journal as a Prose Reader and at the Siblíni Art and Literature Journal as a Junior Editor.