BIO
Laura Villareal is from a small town in Texas with more cows than people. She earned an MFA from Rutgers University-Newark. Her writing has appeared or is forthcoming in Apogee, Black Warrior Review, Breakwater Review, Cosmonauts Avenue, Freezeray, Reservoir, The Boiler, and elsewhere. She has received fellowships and scholarships from The Highlights Foundation, Key West Literary Seminar, and VONA/ Voices. She is a reader at Winter Tangerineand an editorial intern at Sundress Publications. You can read more of her work at www.lauravillareal.com
The Long Trajectory of Grief
A squeal
cracks bright like hot metal in water. Before
the sun has licked across the
fields, I wonder how to save myself
before guilt
sets like a stain. I wonder
if the constellations above me
can lift guilt or if they’re only
a temporary solution for what I feel. In the morning
I find three
wild boars in the street, dead. A red
bumper lying
near one of their carcasses.
Is the nature of a crash to
always leave something behind?
Fog glimmers up from the road forsaken
by first light. I pretend
not to notice
your absence— how my car isn’t spiced with your oakmoss
& mint
anymore. But I pray the vultures pick me
clean like a
Tibetan sky
burial before
anyone smells grief on me.