Snow pauses in its flight
and 50,000 ropes dig into my neck.
Torture is cut and buried in my body.
They make prey of me.
Severed trees groan under the weight
of their own smoke;
the burden of my dark bones.
They make fuel of me.
The air is pregnant with death, my dear,
but I will begin again--
Alorah Welti (she/her) is a Minnesota-born feminist, synesthete, poet, and artist. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Anti-Heroin Chic, lavender bones, Rejection Letters, Lit. 202, and elsewhere. She is one of the poetry editors for The Cloudscent Journal and is a recipient of the Daniel Manacher Prize for Young Artists. She lives on stolen Mohican and Wabanaki land, just north of North Adams, Massachusetts, with her family. You can find her on Twitter at @alorahsky.