For lemon trees grafted at my throat.
For hydrangeas
in my blood to hum.

For stems to keep my organs tucked in their corners
like poems.

For surrender.

To open like oiled hinges, to be an orchard.

For satiety.

To swallow even my own bones—
once everything else is gone.

Taylor Hamann Los is an MFA student at Lindenwood University. Her poetry has appeared in Anti-Heroin Chic, Perhappened, Split Rock Review and Rust + Moth, among others. She lives with her husband and two cats in Wisconsin. You can find her on twitter (taylorhamannlos), instagram (taylorlos_poetry), or at taylorhamannlos.wordpress.com.