my country is a body
is a grave
is a flower bed
my country is a snow-packed ground
pale with ash
I’ve kept its ghost
my country is an empty house
full of human furniture
hot from their collective breath
my country is a caving chest
is the roof of an abandoned chapel
decomposed, light coming in
my country is a forgotten song
distorted under water
made of salt and sweat and bones
my country is a hard pill
lodged in the throat
cradled there in the wet, dark inner tunnels
is the medicine no one needs
my country is a ghost
that haunts my house
that haunts my body…
Celeste Briefs is an emerging poet and writer from Colorado whose work has been published by The Applause Journal, Sixfold, and CU Denver Anschutz Medical Campus's The Human Touch. She received her B.A. in English, Creative Writing and Literature from the University of Colorado, Denver, and currently serves as a student success coach with City Year Denver. Throughout her work she has explored themes of liminality, mythology, sensuality, and wonder, constantly seeking out hidden connections between the body and the earth, the mouth and the voice, the real and the dreamt. Embodying herself fully in her writing, she seeks to shine a light on the formlessness of being, the confusion of an ever-changing body, and the chaos of an ever-changing world. Though deeply informed by mental illness, her words nevertheless reach with longing towards a greater understanding of resilience, love, and the mundane things that make magick in our lives. Celeste also publishes long-form nonfiction pieces on her Substack newsletter The Lodestone Review, where this piece was originally published.
