On Coming Out

By Emma Thomas Jones

The feathers were slender,

brown like grill marks

or swatches on an aspen.

They belonged to a house

sparrow, clogged

my throat until I fingered

my uvula, burst my lips

like a pillow, feathers

scattering the staircase. 

I took one; held it

to the light, a clay red glow

smoldering the ends

into matchsticks. 

My chest, too, billowed,

my body ignited

like a wick. It didn’t 

feel ugly: this spontaneous

combustion of self,

all those feathers

on the stairs. The house

sparrow was

     singing.

About the Author

Emma Thomas Jones, also known as E. Thomas Jones, is a bi+ poet from Georgia who holds an MFA from the University of Arkansas. She is a Pushcart Prize Nominee as well as the recipient of the 2018 Lily Peter fellowship and the 2019 C. D. Wright/Academy of American Poets Prize. She has been published in The Southern Review, The McNeese Review, American Literary Review, and others. She currently resides in Northwest Arkansas. Find her on Instagram @_emmathomasjones.