Alpine Border Patrol

Poetry / Naima Yael Woods

I said no and instantly became                                                                   wild to him

just peel               and my rub raw                         brown

                                                                                        Look:                           I’ve seen the tapes

and also                             what they miss

                                                                                                                                    there he put his hands on my shoulders and pushed there his elbow hugged around my neck there he lifted my body and bled it there he told my face to find wall there he unlocked his handcuffs and licked his teeth and dripped his tobacco-puce saliva

                                                                      then it was

do you feel I asked                                 feel       I asked                                 do       you

                                                                                                                                  my       human       weight

                                                on the under                               lit summit

moving like the live thing that it was the live thing that screamed and snot and left him with chunks of skin like a snake being molted and I said who has the

                                                                                                                                          right(s)

Naima Yael Woods is a writer and educator living and working in the countryside of Southern New Mexico. She is currently pursing her MFA at New Mexico State University. She is a three-time Pushcart Prize nominee and a Tent Residency fellow. Her chapbook, Make Witness, was published by Zoo Cake Press in 2015. New work can be read in The Boiler Journal, Glittermob, Glint Literary Journal, The Harpoon Review, Bone Bouquet, and elsewhere.