It was a good destruction.
Like mosquitos in orbit
around a citronella wick.
When all the men died 
I asked for more.
More men until I’m happy      
again. I myself am half-hell 
and half-morning. 
I’ve an inheritance of oath
after oath. Born some modern wanderer. 
This time I’m the one 
living. A new head, a different name,
but still my skin. I don’t know
if you want less. That same
hour in my bones. 

Hannah Cohen lives in Virginia. She is the author of the poetry chapbook Bad Anatomy (Glass Poetry Press, 2018). She’s the co-editor of Cotton Xenomorph. Recent and forthcoming publications include Cosmonauts Avenue, Entropy, Gravel, Longleaf Review, Tinderbox Poetry Journal, SWWIM, and elsewhere.