Rib Space

Now I want to be whoever I was at that moment
when I discovered my own breathing . . . .

— Malena Mörling, Ocean Avenue

. . . the soul
is nailed to us like lentils and fatty bacon lodged
under the ribs.

— Jack Gilbert, The Great Fires

. . . let me learn for myself all the desires
a body can hold, how they grow stronger
and wilder with age, tugging in every direction
until it feels my sternum might split
like Adam’s when Eve stepped out,
sloughing off ribs.

— Julia Kasdorf, Eve’s Striptease

(epigraphs used to intro my thesis poems)