Bekah Steimel, 10/12


I miss most of you

most of the time

today it’s your lips

leaving me lonely

your light pink lips


by the kind of smile

that sweeps your face

when I say something stupid

or sweet

your light pink lips

laid lightly against my own

your light pink lips

the place my mouth calls home


when it comes for you

distant pulsing drums


like a sunrise

take over for a

weakening rhythm

of your own

Death’s gravity


the descent

before your climb

beyond us

life is a movable object

as the eye clouds widen

your breath


the sound of flesh


reality replaces inevitable

and the hearts remaining

break as quietly

as you left


Bekah Steimel lives and writes in St. Louis, MO. She has spent most of her adult life working with adults and children with special needs. She is currently working on her first collection of poetry, an autobiographical glimpse into one lesbian’s struggles with addiction, fidelity, mental illness and mortality.  Find out more at 

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