Jun 6 h b r

wasn't it?
to feel the knot come undone,
the winds shift,
to feel it so from skin to soul,
to speak of going,
and then to go.

h b r Jun 6

how had i
failed to recognize
as she slipped down
the stairs.
i could not speak or
i had dwindled to almost nothing.
i know i tried to say
right from the start.
i know that there are girls far prettier than me and
far prettier than you.

at a certain distance she looks
far and miserable
but walk up walk
up to her and there is
something cosmic and
there is a critical beauty
and there is the Earth and
it has filled with love
like a heart.

h b r May 3

i knew you
and i knew you
after all is said
and done
after nothing
afterlife and after re-
i will still know you

it's beautiful
the way it whispers
in my ear and something's dripping
from the empty crown
to the feet which
do not bruise no
matter how long
and hard i stand
no matter
it's no matter so
forgive me because

i'll always know you

  Apr 24 h b r

i saw you in a photograph
smiling like someone trying to be happy
i am not sorry for you

  Apr 24 h b r
Amelia Glass

I know the quietest way
to crack an egg.
The softest way to close
a door. How to pour
the water into a tilted
glass so it doesn't splash
back. A bird chirps at
just under sixty decibels.
A light bulb sings at
fifteen. I dream
of polymer chains snapping
clean, recyclables humming
to each other at night
while they biodegrade
at a rate negligible
to the human timescale.
Twenty decibels: the chiral
calcite spiral of the snail
when it falls to the sand,
when it dies,
when a girl apologizes
for asking a question.

  Apr 24 h b r
Amelia Glass

a mantra: I can do
things that hurt, I can
do things that hurt,
three miles in, feet
in the dirt, trying
breathe in, cold numb
swim, trying goodbye,
hello, subvert,
feet in the river,
feet in the dirt,
I can do things
that hurt,
I can do things that hurt.

  Apr 20 h b r

i would prefer if you put the conclusion in the beginning

if only all things laid themselves out like that, or
maybe they already do, maybe we are all just a little
too hopeful, a little too willing to work on fallow fields,
to swallow, fill our arteries with the marble of intuition
and curse it to the stars when our heart wants revenge.

by nature, we are selective in what we see, in how we
react to red, to flags waving with fervor when every other
indicator dictates the should of their stillness.  by nature,
i think, we are accustomed to looking away when someone
shows us their hand and instead, we look down at our own,
reason away what we are willing to give up, what we are willing
to rearrange in hopes that, for them, it was all just a bluff,

knowing full and well that it is never just that.

assignment prompt inspired/ deciphered
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