Read four poems by Sennah Yee in Issue 36: Winter 2017 of The Puritan, then check out our fantastic poetry competition.
The BeachYou ask if my swimsuit is new and I say no. I press a shell to my ear and all I hear is blood.
The DesertWhat would it be like to die here? What do you want to be when you rot? I want flowers seeping out of my jaw, snaking around my bones. I want something to grow out of me.
The Top of the MountainIt is beautiful because it has nothing to do with you.
Dial-Up Internet SoundsLike diamond rainstorms on Jupiter, the seaside snarling in the dark, you hanging up on me right as I’m saying goodbye.