the artic

It is so cold here,
but we can see the northern lights,

the crotches of trees
filled with snow.

I’m an atheist who believes in God,
a theist who doesn’t.
A cannabitch.
Girl Jesus.

I have phantom limbs,
heaven arms,
lunar labia,
an astrolabe.

You are an armed tree in the forest.
I come close and let you cut me.

Molly Rose Strugatz is a writer, artist, and teacher from Brooklyn, living in Barcelona. A graduate of the Jack Kerouac School of Disembodied Poetics, her work explores community, nature, and folklore. Her writing has appeared in Parabola, Tummy Ache, Adult Groceries, Outhouse Magazine, and elsewhere. She has poems forthcoming from Folly Journal.