Spring 2011, Volume 10

Poetry by Ciara Sanker

As I'm Falling Asleep

my body opens up like an egg
cracked flat on the counter,
yolk slipping from the spot
behind my throat where I have been
holding it all day and into the little
blue bowl I have set out for it.
Here everything is five times as poignant.
My heart is thick and wet, the color
of a persimmon after you have waited
three weeks for it to lose all
its hardness: tender and helplessly sweet
Let it run through your fingers,
or catch it at that moment
of exquisite loosening. The pendulum
of my unconscious tongue moves
like a clumsy clapper in
the low-pitched bell of my mouth.
The moon is ringing me slowly.



BIO: Since completing her BA at UC Berkeley in 2007, Ciara Sanker has worked as a freelance tutor and occasional barista. She currently lives in Oakland, CA, where she spends her free time playing with food and with words. Her poems have previously been published in nibble.