Madison O'Dwyer is twenty and has lived in all four corners of Auckland. She works in dentistry by day, but moonlights as a poet and visual artist. Her poetry has been published in journals such as JAAM and Blackmail Press. Her poem Little God was shortlisted in the We, Society poetry competition and two of her works were published in the We, Society Anthology produced by Printable Realities. Her poem, To Meet, To Part was displayed as visual art during the 2016 Matariki Exhibition by Studio One.
Today I feel like a skeleton flower, all straight white lines and the dagger of my cheekbone.
I can feel the chemical formulae of my body ticking,
countdown clocks wilting, time is small sharp smithereens buried in my feet.
I know the seams of my skull weren't made for always;
I think my mind is made of diaphanous sky-veins,
I can feel entangled clouds coagulating, stars firing themselves into farewells
above my eye sockets.
Today I am a skeleton flower with all the right bones in all the right places,
all the wrong moves in all the wrong spaces.
Tomorrow, I fear I will be bleached bones and leftovers,
a spare, solitary petal swelling rhythmically out of habit.