Two Poems by Emily O'Neill

Swollen Empty

When the meltdown came, it smelled
red. Smoke the color of thunder.
The sirens are teaching me. This is how to panic
before you’ve met truth. Miscarry a summer.
The blood clots. My sisters and I tangle
like weeds in the heat. We’re getting bad
at the business of belief. Our stomachs swollen
empty. I [...]