Numbered by Devan Barlow

40 lines
Issue 7 (Spring 2025)


The first time a flower sprung
from beneath my nails I
tore it away, terrified
Soon it was palm-crushed
pressed into a pocket
as I hoped the man I’d
just been introduced to
hadn’t noticed the
pale blush bloom
with seven petals

Seven days later
he died
coincidence, I told myself
Surely death cares naught
for nail-blooming flowers
crushed by frantic fingers

The next twelve men
I was presented to
as a rare, valuable curio
all heralded surgings
of stamens through my skin

All twelve died
lasting only as many
days as numbered
by a flower’s fast-dying
petals once torn from
my skin, remembered
only by the faint itching
of a quick-healing
wound

You, my love
have never seen my
hands without their
gloves, never counted
promise-heavy petals
I’ve kept yours
so very safe
you’ve nothing
nothing
to fear

Devan Barlow is the author of the Curses & Curtains series, and the collection Foolish Hopes and Spilled Entrails: Retellings. Find her short fiction and poetry in various anthologies and magazines. She reads voraciously, and is usually hanging out with her dog. devanbarlow.com, Bluesky @devanbarlow.bsky.social.
Like what you've read? Click the applause button to show your appreciation!