Lisa Low‘s essays, book reviews, and interviews have appeared in The Massachusetts Review, The Boston Review, The Tupelo Quarterly, and The Adroit Journal. Her poetry has appeared in a variety of literary journals, among them Valparaiso Poetry Review, Phoebe, American Journal of Poetry, Delmarva Review, and Tusculum Review.

My Anger

Knows no bounds. It soaks the carpets red
and floods, like blood, from my bedroom door.

In my dreams I still straddle you, knees bent
to the blankets, my hurt lips bending 

to slide over yours, sleek as a cat
bending to lick its best hunched rabbit with

the raw red smear of its scaly tongue.
Nights in my dreams, your hands explore every

part of me—each bump in my geography—
like a blind man wishing he still could see,

and seem so deeply in love with me, death
itself could not tear you away. How many times,

beloved, did you smear my belly with
the passionfruit of your love? How blood-thirstily

now, betrayer, do I return the favor,
pulling my knife, still dripping, from your spleen.