TAKE HER TO THE WOODS THEY SAID
poetry by Jessica Alberg
TAKE HER TO THE WOODS THEY SAID
Take her to the woods they said
And so I did
Take me to the mountains she said/ And so I did
Take me to your home I said/ so she took me to the creeks & the sycamores & the piercers & the
lettuce houses, the tracks and that left hand turn after the x rated store you don’t go into.
Lastly she took me to myself & when she kissed me I said take me.
THE WEATHER AS HER MISTRESS
poetry by Jessica Alberg
THE WEATHER AS HER MISTRESS
Sometimes I think my girlfriend
will leave me over the weather.
She was built for deserts—
my lips for rain.
It means my skin tremors,
in the storm, my hair raises, then
drifts back against me like
rhododendron leafs.
Her skin is like a hide, stretched
and tanned by the hunter. Her body
shapes to her bones. Her clothes fall
off in hot breaths.
I don’t want to sound like I
speak from experience
but I would be the god of weather
if I could.
We could both be,
our horizons never crossing,
our hemispheres in other skies.
stars like borders.
Jessica Alberg
Jessica Beck Alberg is a queer west coast poet currently doing her required time in New York City. She is a double master of poetry, holding one MFA from The New School and one MsC from The University of Edinburgh. She was recently published in 'Gramma Press' and has an upcoming publication in ‘honey & lime.' When not falling out of trees, or talking to the moon, she’s busy talking with her plants.