Kiahna Tucker


%A closer look at us.



                                                  A foot rests between

                                                  your two opaque blue windows

                                                  and me. Wondering what’s inside,

                                                  I pry.

Your eyes, gentle daggers

grazing the outline of mine

searching for a seam


>> help find

You probe with words

and from my parted lips

you peer inside






a crack

a tap


I unravel


>> disp(me)


Ribbons of translucent skin wind

around currents of air.

You stand

watching my




an exhibit for one.


                                                  Blade to chin,

                                                  you peel back your own.


a man



>> disp(man)


I collapse.

My fingers nimbly weaving

parts to whole,


                                                  he stares.

                                                  A film of darkness

                                                  slips over his glass marble eyes.


                                                  Arms outstretched

                                                  he runs

                                                  blindly through black,


                                                  that I have



>> disp(you)


Undefined function or variable ‘you’.

The Last of Old Westminster

28 September 1862


Salt impregnates the air.

Beasts of all kinds writhe
along the dock’s wooden planks,
preparing for noon departure.

I collect my things.


Men clutter the harbor.
Body against body: a tasting of human brine ensues.

Only wanting to feel her touch,
I wait in the stern.

A speck of white bobs across the sky.


Enter the stampede.

The boat sways
back and forth.

I watch as the water lacerates
blankets of algae,

checking the port,
every now and again
for signs of


Layers of cloth are sliced from wooden throats
by ropes bound to metal feet.

The boat crawls forward.

I stifle my eyes’ compulsion,
directing them to focus on a sea
stained brown.

Kiahna Tucker is a first-year student in the College of Engineering at Boston University. Although she is dedicating her life to the sciences, the majority of her life has been spent in-between the pages of books.