Katie Sallee is an emerging writer from Richmond, Virginia. Katie has been writing poetry since she was 12 years old, and is currently a member of River City Poets in Richmond. She is an Oklahoma native, studying English at Oklahoma State University, and relocating for a Master's program in Social Work at Virginia Commonwealth University. She works at an environmental non-profit and has recently become the sole caretaker of three pine trees.

Run

they run
zigzag
through the dining room chairs
—hellions.
tie down their sister
Angie
to a kitchen stool
by her ankles—
leave her screaming
like always
for mother/maid/fairy godmother.
Mother says
we should tie them down with a leash.
Father says
boys will be boys.
I say
we should give Angie
a knife.

Intimate

Reach for your pillow and hit
an arm leaning
against your bare skin.
He digs his fingers
into your hip—

it feels like love.

His outline faces
away from you,
hand searching behind him
for yours.
Form your body against his.
Your bare legs against each other.
like things that fit together

not spoons. that’s too easy for a poem.

You love him so much
your core tightens when you look
at him. His curly hair
blue eyes.

The reason you haven’t written
poetry in months
because you’re fucking
happy
you can’t write anymore
does it matter—
anymore?

But he means so much:
his smile,
impressions,
anxiety.
You have to make him immortal
for one moment
at an open mic.

You have to describe
love
the one thing
you’re not supposed to describe
in a poem.

Painkillers

Plan a date
for drinks and an art show
skirt split past your thigh

Let him hold your hand
feel the weight of what could be either
love or indigestion.

Rinse and repeat

with someone new next Friday night.
Wait for the alcohol
to make him cute / smart / funny.

Take him home.

Lock the door when he leaves
so you can fall asleep without thinking of

the one who left before you
could fall back out of love.

Feel the weight of his hand in yours

so you don’t text the one miles away—
so you don’t tell him: when I dream,

I still dream of you.