Poetry By Rachel Elliott

Illustration By: Crystal Marie Garcia

Illustration By: Crystal Marie Garcia

the jazz, with a nod to ogden nash

every word you speak

is a translation of heat, energy, movement

through your flesh and memories, out

of your tasted and tested organs and limbs

to meet my ears, and your words –

they are a sapid song into my head-holes

and heartholds

speak low, and press through me

we’ll tear away too soon.

 

 

loved dry
 

I was not made for a vacuum

my hands have lines, they bend and move

my eyes need support, too strained by the dark and the light

my hair shows grey, years of stress and anger

you were not made for a vacuum

your face has wrinkles from laughing, from crying

your body shows wear from years of moving, growing

your heart has grown heavy from containing so much love

I feel it wrap around me and you are relieved

that I take from your well of warmth

I want to be a well to you too.