WHITE NOISE: NOTES AT SUNRISE by Laurin Becker Macios


 

whale song; apple seed; tear ducts; wax in a jar infused with sand; the feeling of falling: crisp; the roll of your gut when the rollercoaster plummets; sinking; lightning; standing alone; the sensation of a sweater being pulled onto your arms; a chill—the air sipping you slowly, like water, clear until you lean into it, then humming with the color of your skin.

 

Laurin Becker Macios has her MFA from University of New Hampshire and is the Program Director for Mass Poetry. She was a Tupelo 30/30 Poet in October 2013 and a finalist for Paper Nautilus‘ 2013 Vella Chapbook Prize. She lives in Boston with five plants and one wicked awesome husband.