3 Poems by Imani Christopher

Red chair covered in vines on purple background


belief in grief like
belief in womb
i’ve seen it bleed
knight sky with knives through it
remains a perfect document
for drunk & feral strangers
rooting around waxy blue recycling
for a lick of corn turned moonshine
there are still the dippers
resting against one another
like forks skewered red
cassiopeia tied to her proud chair
in my version of things
none of it hurts so much
a kiss is always without exit wound
find your way back together
with the wide and
winking asterisks


been wondering if a noun
makes a mouth assuming
form just to leave the lips
for stranger lands consider
meter measure melody
how to control a splinter
of a thing there is much
to say about how word finds
sun in a cave & swallows it
down too much percussion
in the body & the wound
will open like an envelope
weeping red letters to spell
do you want a lover or
an audience? you invoke
hope without knowing
hope’s price & you love a love
that sees you lovely &
you hear Jarabi on the lips
of a crowd &
it all waters you down

Captain’s Log

another day without pulp
stillness just can’t find its teeth
stays gumming at the nerve
of more shape to hold

there are no people, no steeple
no lavender salts to wake & warm you so
the body palms the cold side of the bed
reaches for movement & wears it through
holy as the week after summer

the limbs learn a busted blue rhythm
following the greased mechanism of the hips
snagging & tripping over their own chain
vowel-shy, the mouth whispers
am I shining yet?
wilting to the ground to wish on stray pollen

& we are all stuck under the same snowglobe
but this body is my own so I stay thinking
in the striped, winking language of sunlight
while this skin practices loving me back


Imani Christopher grew up near Dallas, Texas. She is currently a student at the The New School, where she studies screenwriting, fiction, and poetry. Find her on Instagram @cmonimaan.

Miriam Rae-Silver is an artist currently painting in oils and making comics. Her work can be seen at miriamraesilver.com.