i climb towards the summit of my voice
with lungs clogged, ether circling back to its beetle-eyed maker.
under the gagging mist, memorabilia smothers larvae.
prayer cards and such.
baby teeth growing like buds, infesting further the infested.
dumped furniture waiting for the strain of the occupier —
not unlike the vacancy of my cocoon throat.
each step is a leap out of my body into a carcass pronounced girl,
pronounced shrill and honeyed in self-infliction,
pronounced too steep to hold other than itself.
i tread towards the summit of my voice as it crouches
deeper into embodiment. as it kneels away from the mist.
no fear can exist in a voice pupating with neck bruises.
By Luisana Cortez
Luisana Cortez is a Mexican-American person that plans to study English at the University of Texas at Austin. Her work has been previously published or is forthcoming in The Harpoon Review, Ghost City Review, A Velvet Giant, and more. This poem is titled “sisyphus reinvented.”