Dry Heat
By Jessica Mehta
After pounding down salmon, skin,
bones and all, frozen
whey powder creams that stuck
like chalk to my teeth and icy
vitamin water, I’d slip
betwixt the old Asian women buzzing naked
between stalls. Slump into the sauna
and let the heat suck me hell dry. Smooth
those goosey forearms, stop
my core shaking with the door’s snap.
I carried
that heat with me. Through the spin classes,
the yoga, the long rides back home. Into the night,
into your arms, warm up the bed
like a firecracker from the inside
out. Even now
that my ribs don’t jump
out like a puppet show
and my hair’s growing back,
I carry that heat within me. It exudes
like an aura, angry red and lovey
pink. Does it matter
that I stole it? That it’s imitation,
if it’s cheap and stifling—No,
because as am I. Like the heat,
so am I.
END
Author Bio: As an indigenous woman and citizen of the Cherokee Nation, much of Jessica’s work reflects place, space, ancestry, and lineage. Recent accomplishments include the 2020 Birdy Prize by Meadowlark Books (for what will be her 14th book), a 2020 gold award for her poetry collection, "Savagery" and her solo exhibition, "emBODY poetry" at Open Signal New Media in Portland, OR. Her CV and bibliography are heavy and ample to spilling over, but if you'd like to learn more, you can find her on Twitter @CherokeeRoseUp, IG @thisCherokeeRose, or check out her author site at www.jessicamehta.com for links to books, a documentary on her life, a work by Osiyo Television, and much more.