2020 | Cyndie Randall

I swim down the road alone, sink

through a pillow and discover

a decapitated head resting in the sea grass.

She gapes up at me and speaks, her eyes

wide as two fish mouths. She does not ask

Why has this happened? or

Who took my body? but when I respond 

she flashes me her rows of milky shells.

You still look beautiful is what I say. You still

look beautiful and everything is alright.

Cyndie Randall's poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Frontier Poetry, DIAGRAM, Crab Creek Review, Longleaf Review, The Pinch, Pithead Chapel, and elsewhere. She works as a therapist and lives among the Great Lakes. Connect with her on Twitter @CyndieRandall or at cyndierandall.com.