Scrawled: 

                     A Cento 

Yesterday, where the yellow pines meet the creek,

filled with animal deaths and toughened hay.

The way you can crush a bug,

is knife-scrawled across my back in sore, jagged letters.

My sister's dark-haired

muscle boy taught me that--

Everything dies, on the edge of a bed

Hands dripping knives.

I talk you to death,

paint your face scraped

pink, flickered with sores,

pulls together a heart lying down on the floor.

My sister's dark-haired

muscle boy taught me that--

change is a thing one, sleeps through

on their knees.

(Oliver de la Paz, Patricia Smith, Melissa Raneg, Marie Howe, Jan Beatty, Patricia Lockwood, Erika L. Sanchez, Natalie Diaz, Matt Rasmussen, Ada Limon, Christian Wiman, John Yau, Vievve Francis, Victoria Chang)