Kiahna Tucker

BIOS

%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

                                                  Nothing

>> help find

You probe with words

and from my parted lips

you peer inside

me

 

flesh

bone

          stop.

a crack

a tap

 

I unravel

 

>> disp(me)

 

Ribbons of translucent skin wind

around currents of air.

You stand

watching my

soul

blaze

 

an exhibit for one.

 

                                                  Blade to chin,

                                                  you peel back your own.

                                                  Underneath

a man

Exposed

 

>> 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,

                                                  unknowing

                                                  that I have

fled.

 

>> disp(you)

 

Undefined function or variable ‘you’.


The Last of Old Westminster

28 September 1862

10:08

Salt impregnates the air.

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

I collect my things.

10:42

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.

11:12

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
her

11:45

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.