thousandfurs

Stella Reed

I felt very strange when I put on my clothes—

a puddle tight with ice—

after reading the story

of the woman who made love to a bear.

I was nowhere and everywhere in my skin.

Thistle of his tongue, depth of his pelt.

In an empty parking lot, someone photographed

the moon, all her cold naked roundness, pocks

and scars, holes where cinders fell.

Just this morning, cranes flew in from Siberia

to peck at leftover grain in the fields near my home.

Just this afternoon the pharmacist leaned in to tell me,

Your testosterone is a controlled substance, handed me

the bag with the topical cream.

Then night came on with wind rushing in sheaves

of music, a small rain of notes. Dirty feet

of the heart, reaching hands of the heart

threaten too much want while running away

into the imagined arms of a bruin.

A small fractal of the moon’s aged light

winged into my window.

I could not sleep.

My skin melted down to stars.

Stella Reed (she / her) is the co-author of the AZ-NM Book Award winning, We Are Meant to Carry Water, 2019, from 3: A Taos Press. She is the 2018 winner of the Tusculum Review chapbook contest for Origami. In pre-pandemic times, Stella taught poetry to women in domestic violence and homeless shelters through WingSpan Poetry Project in Santa Fe, NM. You can find her work in various journals and anthologies, most recently: The American Journal of Poetry, Baltimore Review (2020 contest winner), About Place Journal, The Fourth River, Painted Bride Quarterly, and Terrain. She is a Best of the Net nominee for 2020 and holds an MFA from New England College. Stella works for Audubon Southwest where she is a proud member of the Queer Affinity Group.