April 19 – #NPM17

Last night, I dreamt of you with purple in your hair.
It did not hurt to think of you and it did not hurt

to see you and I let myself hold your face like two

fat peonies and pull each petal to my lips, thoughtless,
simple, like passing the doorway of a childhood home.

I belong here. Soon, I would wake and for the first time

all summer not slump at the weight of remembering.
I did not go brittle counting the days since your mouth

was last part of my body. Things are what they are and

no longer are. The bloom of your cheeks (like all living
things) had a season. I lived here once. I need not return.

Sierra DeMulder – “Acceptance”


Sam Sax – “Learning to Breathe Water”

Published by Robbie Williford

Writer from Flint, Michigan. Partial but slowly becoming. Educator. Storyteller. Bashful. Paying attention to the quiet.

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