the prison
escaping from
itself: bars weakened
with the effort of holding
things apart against
the flex of empty
space, falling into
one another, allowing
themselves, arm
in arm, to decompose.
the walls that only
ever felt the sun
on one cheek turn, expose
the inside of their skin.
the endless, mirrored
mouths of barbed wire
recall what teeth are
for and bite their
lips, expectant, coy.
Lily Beaumont
Lily Beaumont’s poetry and creative nonfiction have appeared in publications including Open Minds Quarterly, Ligeia Magazine, and Right Hand Pointing. She holds an MA in English from Brandeis University, and currently lives in Central Texas, where she works as a contract study guide developer and part-time learning support services aide.