Dotted Line Dotted Line

Poetry Summer 2019
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Cover Antoine Petitteville

Laura Apol
Easter Morning
& other poems

Taylor Dibble
A Masterpiece in Progress
& other poems

Julia Roth
Lessons From My Menstrual Cup
& other poems

Jamie Ross
Ceaseless Wind. The Drying Sheaves
& other poems

Nicole Yackley
Mea Culpa
& other poems

George Longenecker
I’m sentimental for the Paleolithic
& other poems

Taylor Gardner
Short Observations by Angels
& other poems

Greg Tuleja
No Thomas Hardy
& other poems

Joanne Monte
War Casualties
& other poems

Nathaniel Cairney
Potato Harvest
& other poems

Steven Dale Davison
Wordsmouth Harbor Founder
& other poems

Heather 'Byrd' Roberts
How I Named Her
& other poems

sunny ex
& other poems

Ashton Vaughn
Through the Valley of Mount Chimaera
& other poems

Linda Speckhals
& other poems

Lucy Griffith
Breathing Room
& other poems

Steven Valentine
& other poems

Emily Varvel
B is for Boys and G is for Guys
& other poems

Jhazalyn Prince
Priceless Body
& other poems

Marte Stuart
Generation Snowflake
& other poems

S.J. Enloe
Kale Soup
& other poems

Meghan Dunsmuir
Our Path
& other poems


i can see you even when you are hiding

even when your bulky sweater covers your ribs

and your leggings cover the fine sleek scabs

on your thighs

and your sunglasses shield the broken vessels of blood

that pool around your eyes

holding a memorial for your heart

like old friends gathered in a graveyard

talk to me

open your mouth like a chimney flue

and let the smoke roll out

i will not move my body away from your side

until the raging fire turns to ash

and when it does

i will collect the ash on my fingers

and put on you a new mark

and whisper in your ear all the ways in which

you are rising up

until i see your soul is peeking out

of your body

like sunlight

through the opening

of springs gray clouds

when i die

and no one

looks at you

the way i did

and no one sits

in the darkness

and listens

to your stories anymore

and you lay still

and feel

and wonder

who will mirror

my existence

who will remind

me i am still alive

who will beam love

upon me as i sleep

who will take

my hand when

the shadows melt

one into another

and all becomes

black and fear

when i die

and you miss me

and the candle dancing

on the nightstand

melts your emotions down

to waxy tears

and all you want

to do is hear

my voice

whisper to you

like sips of hot soup

restoring you once again

to health

when i am gone

and these hands

that have held you well

are scattered upon

wave and field

and no longer are fused

into five magic wands

casting spells of comfort

upon all you aching parts

and you are sick

with grief

and pain finds a way

into every nerve and pore

and no drink can comfort the separation

it is here you will

find me

for it is here

in the sorrow

i will wait

left to live on earth without you

close the door behind you

keep the robbers aways

the ones who steal my confidence

and the ones who steal your attention

lights off nothing on

only our energy in this dark space

all colors gone

illusions melted down

harsh lines blended together

like you and me

full moon and cloudless sky

someone wants to be noticed it seems

the crack in our curtains creates a beam of light

softly falling across our body

a silver band that molds around every curve

keeping promises

staying true

june full moon

maple is wearing her red satin nighty

in broad daylight again

swaying her shoulders and hips

enjoying being enjoyed

wind came and swept her up in just the right spot

she giggled

hiding nothing

it seems she has forgotten her sprouting phase

and her brittle exposure in winter

i wonder if she even remembers herself

before her red satin nighty

captured craved attention

false confidence

like the shy stars

i too

come out slowly

waiting for stillness

and silence

waiting for intimacy

and wonder

i am not interested

in a love that

drowns me out anymore

i am tired of

disappearing in all

their glory

i want a love

that draws me out

and bears witness

to my subtle existence

connecting my dots

and celebrating

the beautiful constellation

that symbolizes

all i am


all i am yet to be

sunny ex

The poet Greenheart is known for her emotional work of stringing together words and feelings for the world to enjoy. She lives in MN and has learned to use the seasons there as springboards for inspiration. Her IG handle is greenheart .

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