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C.N.P Poetry 

  • Writer's pictureCathexis Northwest Press

As if the Sun Could Quench

By: Jenny Keto

a cut orange in

drought—to bite into

wet flesh after tachy-

heart cardio burns

breath hot as air

air hot as breath

climbing Mount Bonnell

up the peak of Texas

summer heat—as is

my afternoon routine.

I pass passersby

panting as their dogs

do legside. We’re all

beating hearts—breath—


all sweat drenched, but for

mouths—a sun tacky cotton

asking for ah—like


sweet, wet quenching. When

summit greets me

standing at

the edge of precipice,

all lake waves flirt with light

winks, and my muscles

hum blush to the song of sun heat.

Like the greatest refrain,

I answer my thirst

with pressed rind into

lips— a drip—as teeth dig for

what sunset color

this pulp keeps

in so many tight, slick

pockets—to pierce and let

seep from lips—to lips—in mouth—

on tongue—ah, what sweet release!


Jenny Keto is a poet, a psychiatric nurse, a former actress, a proud Austinite, and an origami enthusiast. She's counting on a wish after 1,000 cranes folded, and 1,000 poems written. Much of her poetry grapples with the space between the heart and the intractable mind and has appeared or is forthcoming in Stanchion Zine, Cathexis Northwest Press, Déraciné Magazine, Francis House, The Conglomerate, wards, Broken City, and Visitant.


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