Cups – Megan Cassidy


Women are like liquid,
my father said,
taking the shape of
whatever container you
pour them into.

So I moved slowly,
silently slipping
concealed in my father’s
low tumbler,

My meniscus bobbing
close to the top,
trying to teem over,
pulled down through my center
by his tightfisted gravity.

slithering, slinking, sloshing
suddenly poured
into my husband’s
thin champagne flute.

Once brimming over,
now a few meager drops
in a colossal crystal cage
cut and cooled and cut again,
shaved into shards of ice.

Dumped out once more
into two plastic bottles.
such strange shapes,
my daughters’ cups,
twin oceans of possibilities.

Identical forces of nature,
they roar with intruding cries of

They allow no one
to drink them in.
like surging waves of water,
they rush out from the shore,
casting themselves into
whatever shapes they choose


Megan Cassidy is an author and English professor from Lockport, NY.  Her first novel, Always, Jessie is available at Amazon and other retailers.  Megan’s other work has been featured in Pilcrow & Dagger, Wordhaus, and The Flash Fiction Press.  Check out Megan’s website: or follow her on Twitter @MeganEileenC.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s