Megan Hall

Contrapuntal to Pleasure

I’ve always been fluent	            in release   
in hunger      we’re told 	    girls                                                                                             
we cannot                    speak our own language  
should not want to hold 	    	our own hands  
build	      or bow over	    lasting altars    to desire  
 
only once	                       I was caught 	 
maybe      at five 	            years old  
eyes shut   reverie rocking	praying to     myself	                                                                        
I learned to vanish	               	in waves  
magic cape pulled close	like a second skin	 
 
I still offer it 			    my body 
to itself 	            I hold   home there 
ignore eviction           	            sway to the rhythm	 
a sacred hymn rising	            between my thighs	 
       we’re told to distrust 	our spirit’s tender volt  
but I am a pulse returned	     
laying hands on myself 	calling it holy
Megan Hall is a poet and third-year Ph.D. student in Creative Writing at Georgia State University. Rooted in the landscapes and histories of the South, her work engages themes of ecofeminism, bodily autonomy, and the intersections of poverty, gender, and power. She is currently completing a book-length collection that examines the systemic inequalities shaping and endangering the lives of women and girls. Her poems have appeared in Yalobusha Review, Wild Roof Journal, Soliloquies Anthology, Inkwell Journal, and Slipstream Magazine, among others.