Daughters of Eve, Eat This Scroll
after torrin a. greathouse
by E. R. Skulmoski
;
Many times I have been told I am a Jonah over confrontational coffee in styrofoam cups. The rain slobbers on the pavement threatening to extort me, while my pennies have long been swallowed by whales of silence in a pit between Hong Kong and Vancouver. But you’re unrepentant, you said as you combed for demons in my hair. You have known God for so long, so surely you know where fruit can be found. There is no such thing as luck! you whispered into the mouths of your children, carefully chewing the manna God gave them. With a fistful of my hair, you prophesy over me—that my skirt was far too short for your husband's eyes. You took it as a sign & spat me out into the wild—eyes cut by heaven’s glare, fruit if any, was withered. You are truly the last of your kind, faithful to the very end & we are all too busy burning time, wandering outside the camp to find ourselves & a truer prophecy.
;;
I have been told I am a Jonah over
swallowed silence
unrepentant, you said as
demons
with a fistful of
prophesy over
my eyes
You spat me out into the wild
glare
withered.
we are burning outside the camp
to find ourselves a truer prophecy.
;;;
I am a Jonah
spat into the wild. to find
a truer prophecy
E. R. Skulmoski was born in Vancouver and raised in Hong Kong. She currently lives in the Interior of British Columbia with her husband and four children. Her work has been published in Ekstasis, Foreshadow, Heart of Flesh Literary Journal, and SOLID FOOD PRESS. You can read more of her work here: https://ofisandwas.substack.com/
