Naked by Amy Pence
Not by choice, but through
sly forgetfulness,
I have planted more pinks.
Umbels full with flesh:
a salmon roe, a mulatto,
the pluming and pearly
nude petunias.
How better to mark
my insurgency,
to throw off caution,
wearing little—
with every interior bloom
opening your mouth
to find me.
Amy Pence published the chapbook Skin’s Dark Night (2River Press). Other poems have appeared in New American Writing, StorySouth, Red Booth Review, and The Antioch Review. An English professor Atlanta, she lives in 20 acres of woods with her daughter and husband.
