The weed wants so much to hurt like an animal but he is simple and can only keep track of one goal at a time. An ugly and agitated shadow circles him— it is the horses stamping at the end of their wits, letting their swarmed eyes be lashed by the others’ tails. I am always becoming as you have need of me to be, says Jesus, and the weed may as well be saying it. Like lovers finishing each other’s sentences the two have grown inseparable. They even dress alike these days, since each has sheathed one of his many blades in tender purple.

SARAH ROSE NORDGREN is the author of Best Bones, winner the Agnes Lynch Starrett Prize, which will be published by the University of Pittsburgh Press in the fall of 2014. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Agni, The Iowa Review, Pleiades, Harvard Review, Ploughshares, and The Best New Poets anthology. She grew up in Durham, North Carolina, and lives in Cincinnati. For more information visit sarahrosenordgren.com.