Two Poems
by Margaret Marcum
Florida Blue Eyes
It feels like I mean love, I mean
my muscles are small blind animals that pull
me to you, and I am powerless against my
body, gazing into your two blue-small worlds.
I have never felt more understood, more alone lying
on this tile floor, and I pray if I love you enough you
want to die because I remember
your eyes, the color and shape from
before asking where are
you going, and where have you been and
was I there too?
All that’s here are talking bodies
here and silent faces.
South Florida People
Does your face show beauty or status?
I’m painfully aware you’re painfully
unaware, holding the cross like a knife,
bowed knuckles have no wrinkles—ask,
What is happening to me?
Margaret Marcum recently graduated from the MFA program in creative writing at Florida Atlantic University. Her poems have appeared in Amethyst Review, NonBinary Review, Scapegoat Review, October Hill Magazine, and Children, Churches, and Daddies, among others. She is also author of the poetry chapbook, Recognition of Movement (Bottlecap Press, 2023).