Offering What Was Left Behind

Comments (0) Issue 2, Poetry, Staff Picks, Writing

Offering What Was Left Behind

By A.T. Halaby

 

Often I have taken words by the mouth like I would any lover

and faithful to their traces      they are not just pieces of rock

kicked on        sidewalks

proportioned from boulders

little pieces of mountains        shaped by the pressure

it took              to separate them.

 

I reach beneath this bench      to feel their weight in my hands

I take their hearts        and beat them against my chest.

 

I do not need to dream, little one. I’m no longer lost

as my imagination is fixed     on your palm-pink lips, your still hands

their little shaved tips.

 

I pull the curtain back for my heart so

 

I am

faithful to you

as my heart calls for

all the love      all the love      all the love

it’s held by.

 

All this guidance         all my body curled toward yours.

 

Our hands together     our voices singing.

 

Our hands together     our voices singing.

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