Leakage – Josh Tecklin Samaniego

September 15, 2026

METRO

Stretch and the tear grows on my split lip.

Smile and the seam cracks
in the cold air, through the damp crease,
on the platform licking
my split lip.

REPS

Ceramic chill, inflammation,
arcs the red across the tile.
In the deep blue–with the leg
bloating in the brace–
felt the wet run through the scar
and knew accumulation.

WITCHING

Hands freezing,
keep them off you,
but stealing the warmth
from your bare thighs,
faint baby wailing,
whistles the gap;
mantra to be “like
the blind in the dark.”