!50!a found poem: Virginia Woolf’s The Waves
I am afraid—of frozen winter
of the crack in the earth, of hard people.
Pirouetting sunshine hisses
at the blind anguish while hot steam roars.
I am not silver or even snail-green now
only a soaked red—
like blown veins streaking white cheeks.
I lap cups of sweet milk but pass
on a crust of bread.
With my soft teeth
I am finished with dreams.
Nazifa Islam grew up in Novi, Michigan. Her poems have appeared in Boston Review, Gulf Coast, The Account, and Beloit Poetry Journal among other publications, and her poetry collection Searching for a Pulse (2013) was released by Whitepoint Press. She earned her MFA at Oregon State University. You can find her @nafoopal