What It Is to Sin


We are born animal. Each of us would put a javelin in the heart of a king. As I suspected, the moon is mute. There are only my human hands and my chitin heart to help me learn to love. The martyr will bleed like paint dripped in water while more blessings crowd his mouth. I was like you once, so full of conviction. An army standing in readiness. The wildness is so close. It is bound to reach us one way or another.

CHRISTINA STODDARD’s debut collection, Hive, won the 2015 Brittingham Prize in Poetry and is forthcoming from the University of Wisconsin Press. Recent work appears in Tupelo Quarterly, DIAGRAM, and Spoon River Poetry Review. Christina lives in Nashville, TN, and is the Managing Editor of a scholarly journal in economics and decision theory. christinastoddard.com.