Poetry, recent
Comments 4


At first

You handed me a large vessel

It was black and endless

and echoing back only me


but then you left a fingernail at my house

that you’d chewed off on my couch

watching Olympic ice skating

of all things

which makes two things


then a scent on my pillow

that I hadn’t washed until recently

because I know now

it will keep coming back.


several hairs, shorter then,

in my shower.

written in steam,

a note on the mirror.

I love you.


You were tall enough to touch my ceilings

Which doesn’t say a lot

Since my house was so small

Back then.

You’re still tall enough

To reach

The out-of-reach-things

And that’s another thing.


You’re strong enough

To carry me.

You’re willing

When I need you.

I need you

To be strong and willing.

Scared of nothing.

That’s another thing.


Now when I get scared

It’s not for nothing

It’s for all the things

Filling the vessel.


It’s for questions like

What if it drops?

Or gets cancer?

Or killed in a car crash?

What if all the little pieces fall on the floor

And I cant pick them up

Before they go

Running into the dark corners

Of the floor boards?

What if the echo comes back?

What if the echo said she hated me?

What then?


Then you saw I looked worried,

You gave me a smile.

And that’s another thing.



Artwork via Women Artists




  1. Ah, I love your poetry! It’s truly incredible how you can convey such emotion in just a few eloquent words. Thank you, thank you!


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