Rebuke/ /Spell
I pull my heart out with teeth and claws,
leave it glimmering on the glass table:
Begone! Palo santo, sagebrush, sweetgrass
ash in the shadows. Taste cornpollen,
bitter medicine—the stomach-swirling
of forgetting. Cast it out! Memories skein
beneath the silver surface—butterfly fish
that bite. Dash the mirror. The table,
let a form fall through it. Eat
the shards. Fill up the walnut-sized gap
in your chest where your heart once was. Yes,
you—staring into aquamarine and amethyst
and praying for a miracle. Most terrible and hated
and beloved part of you: sever
the gold chain like a string
of spit. Plant a new orchid,
untouched by everything except the god
who is the sun, his body
rolling in eternity. A newer moon will mesh
the blood inside of you.
Copyright © 2025 by Kinsale Drake. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on February 14, 2025, by the Academy of American Poets.
“Poetry is powerful. Often born of strong feelings, spells can pull from the glittery and darkest parts of ourselves. This poem, framed as ‘Spell,’ demands, somehow, action and emergence from contradiction and stagnancy. I wanted to name these sensitivities and create a kind of exploding effect that ultimately returns to what is beautiful and natural. Despite what we want to destroy, we will always need a heart––something to ‘mesh / the blood inside of you.’”
––Kinsale Drake