AMARIS DIAZMy anger: his mouth.
His mouth: tombstone. My tombstone: a grave I am trying to un-name. My name: used noose. Used noose: unsigned suicide note. Suicide note: drunk prayer. Drunk prayer is what happens when people stop listening to each other. Listening: a rope. That we might pull each other out from the grave. The grave: too late. The grave: don’t cry, mama. We: grumpy children. We: tired parents. We: stuck. We: teething. Teething: the only way we learn to bite. His mouth: my anger: teething. 95 The Paris-American 
Amaris Diaz was born and raised in San Antonio, Texas. She currently resides in San Marcos, Texas, where she is finishing up a B.A. in English from Texas State University this summer. She spends her free time reading, writing, and worrying that doing so is a waste of time. She hopes that graduate school will take her just far enough.
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Next week's poet:
Phillip Williams 
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