• Hannah Flowers

i have been told that i have soft hair

"won't you touch it," i prompt

my intention laid bare:

won't you touch me, i mean

so i can imagine you there

fingers lightly combing through

my heart, sending off flares

a thought turned to a spark

my soul, closed for repair.


i have been told that i have soft hands

"won't you feel them," i suggest

provide supply for my demand

won't you feel me, i mean

a gesture too large to ask

your ghost held me in my sleep

and i prayed the dream would last

i can almost remember your shape

like the wick remembers the match.


i have been told that i have soft lips

"won't you kiss them," i wonder

with arms laid heavy on my hips

won't you kiss me, i mean

any and everywhere you wish

and you would hold it all

my love, deeper than a ditch

for i have known you in a past life

but i can't remember which.

Recent Posts

See All

the celebration

there's no celebration without mourning, and vice versa. but it feels wrong, surrounded by cheer to hold back my tears. i'll serve the cake and all, laugh together, then retreat. it is my pain to bear

With Current.

sixteen hours never felt so long but eight flow by like a breeze we said we'll wait and see where the wind carries but you know where i'll be, anywhere but home if you're not beside me. i wish i were

MissingNo.

an unexpected error in my programming an oversight, a glitch in my system a skip in my heartbeat unaccounted for, verily i built myself from the ground up structured so carefully, strong to withstand