Joshua Davis
Pillars,
dunes, all the wives of Lot— so many women turned to salt. Everyone in love looks back. The sea has its own lights that shake in the tide foam like birds. There’s lightning farther out, thin fingers drumming where even the waves drown. Tonight, the wives are quiet. Dawn comes on, fever of red silks, scarf after scarf dropped over the waves. I take my place among the wives and turn, turn and stare down the night as it pales.
Joshua Davis lives in Oxford, Mississippi. His work has appeared in Measure, Goblin Fruit, and Arsenic Lobster. One day, he hopes to go to Copenhagen.
