Mary Immaculate by Amanda Auchter

I did not know
how to touch, to be

touched. My body a scrap

of parchment, reflection
in the well, mine.

         Then you 

came — dream of the field,
of the offering. I could tell

you it was quiet, just
a young woman slumbering

             feathers       breath

but the story unfolds 
and unfolds.  It was a songbird

at dawn         bright pulse 
in my window            burrow

of blossoms       O God

it seared me. I tell you now
it was like the stars, a cold

     fire. I burned.

Amanda Auchter is the author of The Wishing Tomb, winner of the 2013 PEN Center USA Literary Award for Poetry and the 2012 Perugia Press Book Award, and The Glass Crib, winner of the 2010 Zone 3 Press First Book Award for Poetry. Her recent work has appeared or is forthcoming at HuffPo, CNN, Alaska Quarterly Review, Shenandoah, The Massachusetts Review, and the Academy of American Poets Poem-a-Day project, among others. She holds an MFA in Creative Writing from Bennington College and is a regular book reviews contributor at Rhino and Indianapolis Review. Follow her on Instagram and Twitter: @ALAuchter.