how seeing the shape of your mouth
that first time, I kept staring
until my blood turned to rain.
Some things take root
in the brain and just don’t
—Tim Seibles, “Slow Dance”
"remember when we used to see those birds resting peacefully on the branches of the really big trees and how we would scream as loud as we can on the count of three just so we can watch them fly away together all at once"
come close I want to whisper it, to pour
the words burning into you, the same words for each one of you,
listen, it’s simple, I’m saying it now, while I’m still sober,
while I’m not about to weep bitterly into my own glass,
while you’re still here — don’t go yet, stay, stay,
give me your shoulder to lean against, steady me, don’t let me drop,
I’m so in love with you I can’t stand up."
—Kim Addonizio, “Glass”
I will kiss you like forgiveness. You
will hold me like I’m hope. Our arms
will bandage and we will press promises
between us like flowers in a book.
I will write sonnets to the salt of sweat
on your skin. I will write novels to the scar
of your nose. I will write a dictionary
of all the words I have used trying
to describe the way it feels to have finally,
finally found you.
And I will not be afraid
of your scars.
I know sometimes
it’s still hard to let me see you
in all your cracked perfection,
but please know:
whether it’s the days you burn
more brilliant than the sun
or the nights you collapse into my lap
your body broken into a thousand questions,
you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I will love you when you are a still day.
I will love you when you are a hurricane."
— Clementine von Radics, “Mouthful of Forevers”
It was like hearing every goodbye ever said to me—said all at once."
—Lang Leav, Love & Misadventure
—Gregory Sherl, “Please Move to Vermont and Break My Heart”
a tangle of muscles
aching to be untied
by knowing fingers?"
—Kapka Kassabova, “And They Were Both Right”
I, an artist, will answer you: I am here to
live out loud."
since I’d forgotten for a moment where you are,
I search for you with hope in my bones."
—Hester Knibbe, “Search” (trans. Jacquelyn Pope)
—Shivani Mehta, The Butterflies