Question & Answer 1 – Amanda Lovelace

Question 1

If I could drag my own name through the dirt,
I’d do it. Pull Huvarshta into the apostasy of
blood, let my kin coagulate. My DNA is a cult
in which my coup has blessed the Septuagint
to spread ink in the shape of a Y. Or why. Do
you count the days until you’re burned at the
stake? I’m Avraham, the son of Avraham.
Celebrating valentine’s day as I roast.

– Aaron Kent

Answer 1

i will not survive this winter. the
boys with fistfuls of matchsticks are

pound. pound. pounding. at
my cottage door. while

witches may be flammable, the
match-boys cannot burn the heart shape my

lover’s lips take on when she whispers my
name through the dark. the

match-boys cannot burn the
mother-to-daughter tales sliding off

the angry tongues of my ancestors
for centuries to come. (they’ll

inherit my flames & store them in their veins for later
& they’ll have the match-boys to thank for it.)

the match-boys cannot burn the wronged
woman’s wrath of artemis, goddess

of hunt(ing the boys who come for
women like me with hate-blaze eyes.) i

may not survive this winter,
but my dragonfire will last through them all.

– Amanda Lovelace

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