Siren Song
Sing me a man,
sister mou,
bring him to my altar.
Together we will sip
his iron salt nectar.
Weave him a shroud,
with your honeyed words
and lustrous braids.
Wine dark is our hunger,
fathomless our thirst.
There is salt water in our veins,
cold as the sea god’s heart.
We are sharktoothed.
So sing sister!
Men come
to be devoured.
Dream Pieces
A yeti
Two yetis
A king in a bathtub
The sea
An essay unfinished
Shame
My mother
Spine-curling pain
A baby
A monster
A man
You
Judith Slaying Holofernes
I slit his throat
his ochre blood blooms
on white sheets
(where once my blood had spilled).
I slit his throat
pulling tight his hair
(as once he had restrained me).
I slit his throat
not meeting his eyes
(let him be alone as I was).
I took no joy in the act
(I admit a grim satisfaction).
But taking action was unholy rapture
the consummation of arduous rage.
Ashley Herzig is a bibliophile, an art lover and a chocolate addict. She is currently taking far too long to complete her degree at Cornell. She has never before been published.