Denison University

Frank, Sadie

How Institutionalism within Nonstate Militant Groups Affects the Supply of External Support from Foreign State Actors.

Curry, Duncan

Efforts Towards the Total Synthesis of Teredinibactin A

Ha, Minh B. Tran

Assessing the Effects of Low Polyunsaturated Fatty Acids (PUFAs) Diets on Priming Immunity in Drosophila melanogaster

McDonald, Blake Matthew

The Illusion of Separation: U.S.-China Decoupling and the Realities of Global Trade

Olvera, Monica

Exile 
Volume 72 Number 1 Article 13 
Burnt Out 
Monica Olvera 
Denison University 
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 Part of the Creative Writing Commons 
Recommended Citation 
Olvera, Monica () "Burnt Out," Exile: Vol. 72: No. 1, Article 13. 
Available at: https://digitalcommons.denison.edu/exile/vol72/iss1/13 
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17 
Burnt Out 
Monica Olvera 
 
 


English

Burnt Out

Koeppen, Elizabeth

Exile 
Volume 72 Number 1 Article 14 
Tempered 
Elizabeth Koeppen 
Denison University 
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 Part of the Creative Writing Commons 
Recommended Citation 
Koeppen, Elizabeth () "Tempered," Exile: Vol. 72: No. 1, Article 14. 
Available at: https://digitalcommons.denison.edu/exile/vol72/iss1/14 
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18 
Tempered 
Elizabeth Koeppen 
 
Those early years did not come easy for her and I – 
my toddler temper flickering red hot 
against the backdrop of my mother’s tired sighs. 
Yet, every time, her gentleness softened 
 
my toddler temper. Flickering red hot, 
the stove came alive, a flaming underbelly; 
yet, every time, her gentleness softened 
fiery orange lashes into a soft yellow shield. 
 
The stove came alive, a flaming underbelly, 
pan hissing while the innards of eggs turned 
fiery orange lashes into a soft yellow shield. 
My mother’s hands stirred quickly, 
 
pan hissing while the innards of eggs turned 
docile to snapping oil, staining her skin. 
My mother’s hands stirred quickly, 
worried I may regress, turn 
 
docile to snapping. Oil staining her skin 
still, she held my shoulder in her palm, 
worried I may regress, turn 
tear-stained and tired to grinding jaws. 
 
Still, she held my shoulder. In her palm, 
she forked eggs, finding my mouth, 
tear-stained and tired. Two grinding jaws 
devoured the silken bite. 
 
She forked eggs, finding my mouth 
again and again, filling my belly. 
I devoured the silken bite, 
19 
simmered down to calm. 
 
Again and again filling my belly, 
those early years did not come easy for her. And I, 
simmered down to calm, 
against the backdrop of my mother’s tired sighs. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


Tempered

Murray, Alex

Exile 
Volume 72 Number 1 Article 18 
Gender Studies Scholars Want to Know 
Alex Murray 
Denison University 
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 Part of the Creative Writing Commons 
Recommended Citation 
Murray, Alex () "Gender Studies Scholars Want to Know," Exile: Vol. 72: No. 1, Article 18. 
Available at: https://digitalcommons.denison.edu/exile/vol72/iss1/18 
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23 
Gender Studies Scholars Want to Know 
Alex Murray 
 
 


Gender Studies Scholars Want to Know

Pandaleon, Julia

Exile 
Volume 72 Number 1 Article 31 
Cows in the Woods 
Julia Pandaleon 
Denison University 
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 Part of the Creative Writing Commons 
Recommended Citation 
Pandaleon, Julia () "Cows in the Woods," Exile: Vol. 72: No. 1, Article 31. 
Available at: https://digitalcommons.denison.edu/exile/vol72/iss1/31 
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39 
Cows in the Woods 
Julia Pandaleon 
 
 


Cows in the Woods

Burke, Lila

Exile 
Volume 72 Number 1 Article 36 
All I Have/All I Am 
Lila Burke 
Denison University 
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 Part of the Creative Writing Commons 
Recommended Citation 
Burke, Lila () "All I Have/All I Am," Exile: Vol. 72: No. 1, Article 36. 
Available at: https://digitalcommons.denison.edu/exile/vol72/iss1/36 
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accepted for inclusion in Exile by an authorized editor of Denison Digital Commons. For more information, please 
contact eresources@denison.edu. 
44 
All I Have/All I Am  
Lila Burke 
 
Dearest Thighs,  
 
Before I learned that my body was something to fear, I loved you for your functionality. I loved 
putting on my favorite polka dot skirt and twirling my worries away. I loved climbing the small tree in 
the orchard, propping myself against sturdy branches with a plum and my newest book from the 
library. You were always the perfect shelf. Somewhere along the way, though, I forgot about loving you 
and began trying to erase you. If I could, I would have flipped my pencil and rubbed until nothing 
remained but shreds of pink rubber and faint smudges of graphite. At 11, I noticed that my friends had 
a space between their thighs. They didn’t touch like you, didn’t get bigger in the middle like you. At 
13, I loathed how you hurt me. The chafing never seemed to stop. With every step, as you rubbed my 
skin raw, I thought something must be wrong with me. At 16, you were a sign of my ineptitude. You 
slowed me down in the pool, made me fall behind the other girls. I went home burning. I could list 
thousands of ways I’ve been unkind to you. Instead I’ll just say, I’m sorry.  
Now, at 20, I wish on every spare penny for a time machine. I’d be so much kinder to you–to 
myself. I’d be gentler with my words, more cautious with my hands. I can’t go back, so I’ll do all of this 
now. I love so much about you.  
I love feeling your presence. In a frigid mountain lake, the flexing of our muscles reminds me I 
can rely on you to keep my head above water. I love when you’re tired. After a long day, you are proof 
of the work I’ve done. You shuttle me from class to class, up and down and back up the never-ending 
stairs of my dorm. In the evenings I relish in your aching, a reminder of my mere humanity. I think I 
love you most in the summer. As days get longer and warmer, you rarely find yourself hidden. You 
catch droplets of fruit juice, the nectar of blackberries, strawberries, peaches, plums seeping in just 
above the knee. If I were a fruit, if someone took a bite of me, would they wipe me away or let me sink 
in?  
In the end, you might be all I have. What choice do I have but to love you? You are of me, and I 
of you. You remind me that maybe I’m not so far from that little girl twirling endlessly in a polka dot 
skirt.  
 
Love always,  
Lila 
 
 
 


All I Have/All I Am

Frichtl, Chloe

Ethics of Modern Yoga

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