I’m dangerous; there’s little left
inside this body—
that hasn’t wanted not to subtract
from the world.
I can divide a man into men. This
isn’t a warning
or confession. Call me what
in my own mind I’m a mirror.
I see everything
except myself. This way I can’t
lose: even when
broken, a polished surface reflects
whatever looks in.
Eloisa Amezcua is an Arizona native. Her poetry and translations are published or forthcoming from Poetry Magazine, The Journal, Prelude, and others. Her chapbook On Not Screaming is forthcoming from Horse Less Press. You can find her at www.eloisaamezcua.com.