Meriwether Clarke's full-length debut, Body Memory, narrates the history of a body intent on remembering and overcoming the violence of misogyny. Faced with trauma and loss, Clarke's speakers turn inward, transforming the act of personal exploration into a searing reckoning with the punishing limitations of gender expectations. In a world where women are constantly evaluated yet never fully seen, the anxiety of potential harm is omnipresent. Startling and evocative imagery paints pointed metaphors for such suffering: desert earth in Arizona swallows itself amidst a damaging drought; cottonwood saplings wait, rooted to the ground, for young lovers to carve hearts into their bark; rivers exist only to "turn into lakes." Woven through these portrayals are meditations on the inherent toll of remembrance and how it both defines and confines identity. The collection's first poem poses the question, "without memory/what can there be/of days?" Clarke gestures toward answers in her depictions of the connection between girlhood and womanhood as intimate, unbreakable, and-too often-deeply sorrowful.