Author: Megan Willoughby

Megan Willoughby is a writerperson from Los Angeles. She’s an assistant editor at theNewerYork and is currently finishing a Creative Writing degree. Upon completion she will grow a beard, join the circus, and flail her way towards adulthood. Read her words at: theNewerYork, the Northridge Review, Yellow Mama, and on the 3rd page of a Google search. She half-heartedly blogs at


ribs rest on wall,
visitors admire aperture and light
exposure—my waist a valley
of uncanny shadow, her hand
the eye—leading brilliant vision,
where my body
hangs foreign.

Portraits of the Body

The Mirror

  Look into me.                   I will reveal
  your deep self:                blurred edges
  body between                  point x & y.
            You reflect the universe
& boundlessness             you crack open
      there is a landscape inside, holy
   transgressor                  of flesh.
  Look into me:                  bend this light.

The Well

   I remember the well dug into earth
near my parent’s home, a vacant yawn
dropping down.             I hear the echo
of my songs and pennies singing back,
                  want to know
              what secrets within
             transform the sound—
 yet it’s a trick I can’t catch, only dark
               water still & silent,
          so cool I can’t help but fall.

Waking After the Great Sleep

We bathe in the pool of our past selves.

Anoint me with lotus water: life, uncurling, rebirth.

Necks outstretched, cranes call across the expanse

& you are their strange music, sister.