I hear you in the way
the snow blankets the Earth,
how it makes a bed of every
available surface until
there isn’t a place I haven’t
lain beside you. I hear
you in the flakes as they fall,
never a hazardous drop but a
lazy trail through the air,
arcing and drifting until you
come to a stop beside me again.
I hear you in the way the
ground shivers as you land,
waiting for you but not quite
prepared for the feel of it,
for the ache of the freeze
and how deep it permeates
into the ground beneath me.
And I hear you in the way you
return every winter, not
just expected, but welcomed
with a crispness to the air and
a lightness to the heart.
YOU CAN'T LIKE GIRLS WHEN YOU ALREADY HAVE A BOYFRIEND AND OTHER LIES THEY TOLD ME IN THE DESERT
desert grasses whisper
against a newborn sky
telling secrets until its cheeks
paint themselves pink
if the sky can listen, why can’t you?
I think of dew falling on the terrain
like a contradiction in the dawn
a truth where two states can coexist
and cohabitate within themselves
the fervent afternoon air
condensing over the fields
like a world
they say the truth will set you free but why do I still feel trapped?
a cool breeze blows
across my sweat slicked face
hair cropped close to the roots
day old lipstick stains on my collar
I feel this chill more than the heat
it wasn’t wrong until you made it that way.
if it rains, I think about running
until my legs give out
unsmooth and scarred to the ankles
either outrunning the clouds
or until my lungs give out
but I know an empty chest and tired legs
I can’t turn into what I’m not for you.
HAILY STAGER is an avid reader and lover of literature who hails from a small town in the mitten-shaped land of Michigan. She is a college student and uses reading, writing and coffee as outlets for life's stresses. You can find her on Twitter at @hailbits.