Journal Poetry Selection: The Guests by Terresa Wellborn

By Terresa Wellborn

The Guests I drove, a solitary sail into the mouth of the night, to the Wasatch edge where I saw her, a deer, head bent to a pool of green, and you, a flung star. How we wanted her, like a hooked dream, awash in our own brine. We poured, paired cups of disbelief and …

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