My lover sends

me photos of

his delicate face,

the chipped ice

eyes filled with quiet

seduction, his hands

guarding monuments

as tall and erect as

redwood trees.


I move my finger

tips across galaxies

and screens, caressing

digital images, send

back moans that echo

across internet and

all the bathroom stalls


in America. I am

unbelievable,” he

responds before deleting

the entire thread.

I love how he

doesn’t love me.


To You


On this vast earth

I’ve gotten to know you.

The pleasure of your sighs.

How the earth trembles

beneath your sure feet.

Pockets of soil long to keep

your flesh enthroned

in mineral. Tendrils of

vine grasp for you but

you are always out

of reach.


I’m thinking of a word

that moves me as much as

the whorl of your thumb

pressed onto my tongue

as though in deepest


The holiest of holy

but nothing comes to mind.


Natalie Sierra is the Editor-In-Chief for Disquiet Arts. She is the author of three collections of poetry and short stories, with one, “Medusa” forthcoming from DSTL Arts this fall. Her work has been featured in Dryland: A Literary Journal based in South Central Los Angeles, the Los Angeles Times, and more. Follow her on Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter @pandorademise