Darby Ratliff
The Big Bang, a Redux
I get coffee with my ex
every Friday, and this time
the bruise on my thigh
balances painfully on the chair’s
edge. This bruise—by the way,
it looks like the universe,
changing and shifting
blues and purples and greens, flecks of
white, injured skin like stars,
created like how I imagine the galaxy was--
by accident. I fell on the porch,
slipped on ice and snow,
the universe forming in an instant,
and when I roll on it
in my too big bed,
I feel the universe, pulsing.
every Friday, and this time
the bruise on my thigh
balances painfully on the chair’s
edge. This bruise—by the way,
it looks like the universe,
changing and shifting
blues and purples and greens, flecks of
white, injured skin like stars,
created like how I imagine the galaxy was--
by accident. I fell on the porch,
slipped on ice and snow,
the universe forming in an instant,
and when I roll on it
in my too big bed,
I feel the universe, pulsing.
Biography
Darby Ratliff (She/Her/Hers) lives in Buffalo, New York where she splits her time between traveling, writing, and eating tacos. This is her first published poem, though she released a novel in verse under a pseudonym in early 2019.
