To the child that wasn’t conceived in Abiquiu, NM

you would have become in a storm
torrent of rain like gunpowder ricochet
tiny house rocking us awake
warlord reckoning

off grid and
unknown, vast

like ocean but desert
like arroyo but vista

you, October valentine of matrimony and heartbreak
due for a scream in an
ungodly summer month

every star would have watched your beginning
soldiers marching along meridian
and this mountain would bear your name
carved by my tongue on a dry Sunday morning
a low 40s reprieve from the
violence waiting to meet November

we held you
infinite masterpiece of
desperate want

too perfect
and not at all


Alexandra Corinth is a disabled writer and artist based in DFW. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in SWWIM, Glass, Mad Swirl, Thimble Literary Magazine, and Atticus Review, among others. She is also an editorial assistant for the Southwest Review. You can find her online at