Magician by Lucy Jayes

Change was pulled out
from inside of me by a surgeon at 4 in the morning.
He must have been a father,
the way he stitched me together
after he cut me in half.

Fingers trace raised skin,
excavated pubic bone wall. I have shut
down, gone inward, burrowed in
wounds none else can even see.

Unpredictable fathers
Daughters trained to tip toe tightropes teeter
between 50/50 chances
and 100th chances
and promises he will change 

My son knows nothing of defects
blue eyes mirror blue eyes
There is so much I do not want him to learn.

Lucy has fostered a love of writing since she was old enough to hold a pen. She graduated with a degree in English Literature from the University of Kentucky in 2014. During college, she interned for Ace Weekly magazine with a primary focus on covering local events and happenings in the food and beverage industry in Lexington. Upon graduating, she moved to Denver, CO and worked in nonprofit fundraising and event planning and as a conference manager and journalist for a trade magazine covering the legal cannabis industry. She is a first year MFA student at the University of Kentucky and focused on Creative Nonfiction writing.