Sarah Awad    © 2016 All Rights Reserved

Desire as Architecture

In July, I visited a cathedral missing
its ceiling from an ancient earthquake.
Curved arches stretched
into the sky like whalebone ribs,
white on blue. This height
was man’s desire to be close to god.
A reaching. There is something
staggering about climbing walls with sky
at their end. There is something
inevitable in collapse. A surrender.

Sea blue. Where Icarus fell, where underwater
creatures chewed his bones. Sky blue.
Where Icarus flew, where the sun
browned his skin. There are lessons here.

I am reaching. I like men with spines
like spires, with faces just-shy of handsome.
I like the building toward, the salt-sweat
above my mouth. I stand, upturned. Bite
my neck—I’m told my skin tastes like its color.


Alysia Sawchyn
Copyright © 2016  

Alysia Sawchyn is the managing editor of Saw Palm: Florida Literature and Art. Her writing has appeared in Indiana Review, Midwestern Gothic, and elsewhere. She can be found online in Barrelhouse’s “Baking is Cheaper than Therapy” column or on Twitter @happiestwerther.

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