I.
I miss most of you
most of the time
today it’s your lips
leaving me lonely
your light pink lips
lengthened
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
II.
when it comes for you
distant pulsing drums
strengthening
like a sunrise
take over for a
weakening rhythm
of your own
Death’s gravity
inescapable
the descent
before your climb
beyond us
life is a movable object
as the eye clouds widen
your breath
announcing
the sound of flesh
relenting
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 bekahsteimel.com.
