RECEPTION
First, I waited for something to kill me.
I scanned the horizon for mushroom clouds
or the curve of an approaching planet.
Then, the medicine softened the edges
and I waited to feel something again.
I thought waiting would bring me a new life,
and I wanted, next time, to enter it right away.
On my birthday, I didn’t take pictures.
I played Candy Crush the whole pregnancy.
When my daughter was born, a door appeared
out of thin air. On the other side: the world,
the glittering and perilous world. I want to say
I went through in an instant, that I was called
by some angel to rise. But I tapped my foot
on the tile for weeks, waiting for my new name
to be called. And when it came,
I hardly recognized it, it was so like my old one.
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Image by Ron Lach from Pexels
Emily Adams-Aucoin is a writer whose poetry has been published in magazines such as Electric Literature, Frontier Poetry, TriQuarterly, Sixth Finch, North American Review, and Colorado Review. Her micro-chapbook It Adheres to Many Things won Harbor Review’s 2025 Editor’s Prize. She’s a poetry editor for Kitchen Table Quarterly, and you can find her on social media @emilyapoetry
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