Even the lions sprout wings in a dream this desperate, the one you begged for, early bedtimes & lucid machinations. Here, you finally have it — if only in a watery fog already dissipating. For now it is yours: harmony true as a caduceus, clarity regular as day. The dream’s central art: your riven heart, the other half given away.
we will see it all she whispers as she pushes into my side pressing flesh between fingers and wand everything looks great
your femur appears from the watery ink
Pause click
prints an image for us to hold
how’s the pressure I can’t decide if she means on my belly or in my heart as the air I breathe moves to your blood you emerge sideways ghostlike from my bloody shore
here’s the aortic arch she speaks to her student who I have allowed in the room to view all that I hold inside
look at those ovaries, beautiful I see only shadows sunken faces then your profile:, elf-like, angelic sagittal view split in half
like when you arrived like every moment since split between two selves
the wand moves again and you sink into black water
Ashley Howell Bunn (she/they) completed her MFA in poetry through Regis University and holds a MA in Literature from Northwestern University. Their work has appeared in many places both in print and online. Their first chapbook, in coming light, was published in 2022 by Middle Creek Publishing and their second chapbook, Living Amends—coauthored with Alexander Shalom Joseph, is forthcoming through Galileo Press . Their work has been supported by Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference and Sundress Publications. She is an adjunct instructor of English at the Community College of Denver and the Youth Program Coordinator at Lighthouse Writers Workshop. She is a certified somatic coach and yoga guide, and she offers somatic writing workshops in-person and virtually. When she isn’t writing, she is practicing yoga, running in the sunshine, playing with her kids, or daydreaming and staring off into space.
now so often twinkling between the walls of my home —————–moving and stopping abruptly, a dance and fall
when embodied i almost didn’t notice ——————how it changed the vibration in the air ——poetry moves the tide of emotion =======================================================-this, i noticed
===========–for my body was water —— adherent
but spirit spirit
is this other element without ground or liquid or oxygen or heat ——————spirit is but ether ether ———————is my best bet ———-as i let my ghost consider what moves through me
there are notes like cold rain, sleet in early spring ——————and campfires in late summer cool autumn mornings with golden aspen coins
——————and there is heartbreak, the thought of him leaving my father’s hand softening ———– the strands loose from her braided hair
something about flowers —–and how long they last
Ashley Howell Bunn (she/they) completed her MFA in poetry through Regis University and holds a MA in Literature from Northwestern University. Their work has previously appeared in The Colorado Sun, Twenty Bellows, patchwork litmag, Mulberry Literary, Tiny Spoon, Champagne Room Journal and others. She is an experienced yoga guide trained in a variety of styles. Their first chapbook, in coming light, was published in 2022 by Middle Creek Publishing. She leads somatic writing workshops and writes a monthly Yoga, Tarot, and Astrology column for Writual.They are a founding member of The Tejon Collective, an inclusive creative space in Denver, CO.
south broadway press 