I can’t sink the fortunes pulled from my


                   into the same sea

                      that sustains me. Surviving


                              season after season

      of earthquakes

                              is terrible enough. I am

addicted to the lines


          on your face. Strangers

          in other places left

                   the doors shut

                   on purpose. I never


             thought of absence

                                  as something close

  to power. It irradiates

                        me; eats me away in the dark.


     I burn, I bend, I twist

                    myself into something



Laura Voivodeship writes erasure poetry and creative nonfiction while masquerading as a teacher in the Middle East. Her most recent work has been published in unstamatic, daCunha, and Rue Scribe, and is forthcoming from Kestrel Journal, Panoply, and Coffin Bell. She can be found posting amateur images and line edits on Instagram @lauravoivodeship.