Sarah Dickenson Snyder
Skinhunger
Don’t feel lost right now,
I tell myself. Remember
the skinhunger of your life—
each new romantic love
blossoming in your hand
having to be on his leg
as you sat shoulder to shoulder,
the first moment she was placed
on your chest, the way nursing
was a gift, something holy,
that favorite photograph of her
sleeping on your sleeping self—motherlove.
Skinhunger, huidhonger in Dutch.
To mesh two words
& name the unnamable,
right now seeing neighbors
walking by—your hand
pulled to the windowpane.
Sarah Dickenson Snyder has three poetry collections, The Human Contract, Notes from a Nomad (nominated for the Massachusetts Book Awards 2018), and With a Polaroid Camera (2019). She has been a 30/30 poet for Tupelo Press and nominated for Best of Net in 2017. Recent work has appeared in Rattle, Artemis, The Sewanee Review, and RHINO. https://sarahdickensonsnyder.com/