Utterance

By Kafira Adam

My grandmother once explained intuition to me
as a dog swallowing a minute whole;

that clarity will reveal herself
in the dog’s soft teeth.

Its tongue: an afterthought. Gnawed in search of devouring. Divinity
leisurely created through conversing.

When I began to pray to clarity over god
I was given nothing.

No dog appeared, no teeth
aside from my rotting ones arose.

Intuition refused to unfurl,
and in her obligatory role clarity raveled.

Mouth vacant, I was forced
to start swallowing seconds.

Kafira Adam is a freshman at UNC-Chapel Hill from Asheville, NC. She is an English and Comparative Literature major with a concentration in poetry.