Circus

1.

I cut my thumb
open
on a knife

and it believed
it was
sleeping –

the skin
puckered
like the mouth

of a fish.

The blood
was like a horse

narrowing herself
through a fence,

through a canal
into another city.

2.

Tomorrow, she said,
tomorrow –

pointing
at a pair of air balloons

that hung low
above the earth.

It was raining.

I waited for their colors
to bleed

into the ground,
to turn the apples

from the Tree to
multicolored
wisps.

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About mckenzielynntozan

McKenzie Lynn Tozan lives and writes in Indiana, where she works as a virtual assistant, editor, and freelance writer via her self-started business, MLT Creative. She received her MFA in Poetry from Western Michigan University, where she worked as the Layout and Design Editor for New Issues Poetry and Prose and as an Assistant Poetry Editor for Third Coast. She previously completed her B.S. in Secondary English Education and B.A. in English, with a Concentration in Writing, at Indiana University South Bend, where she worked as the Managing Editor for 42 Miles Press. Her poems have appeared in Rogue Agent, Whale Road Review, the James Franco Review, Emerge Literary Journal, Encore Magazine, Thank You for Swallowing, The Spooklet, Sleet Magazine, and Analecta, among others; and her book reviews and essays have appeared on The Rumpus and Motherly. When not writing, she enjoys art and music, and the simple mathematics of being a wife of one, a mama of two, and a cat-mom of three. For more, visit www.mckenzielynntozan.com. View all posts by mckenzielynntozan

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