the right way:
rock the blade along knuckles pressed to tacky skin.
because they pin-prick your eyes
while mine stay clear.
your dad
would scream his throat raw when you sliced
the rings lopsided.
whenever you look in the mirror you see
his face curled into a fist.
my onions are all crooked on the cutting board.
you don’t yell at me.
About the Author
Nix Carlson (she/they) is a queer, polyamorous, and neurodivergent sign language interpreter based in Lexington, KY, with strong ties to Milwaukee, WI. Their work appears or is forthcoming in several publications, including Wildscape, Orange Rose, Vellichor Literary, Page Gallery, and Broken Stone. You can find them on Instagram at @bynixec.
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