This

This

Poem by Rose Auslander
Art by Karyn Eisler

Your spine unrolls
and flattens
my heart.

We have no words
for this
.

Trickling from the ceiling fan,
your sweat,
my blood,

no words.

Lying on our backs,
trying to
conceive

how we have no words
for this
.

Oh Lord
of the alphabet,
grant me words,
unborn words, extinct words . . .

for snow almost melted
but still in perfect flakes,
for a hope so inarticulate
it can only break.

Grant me words
for this.


-refers from the word back in Scott Owens’  poem 13 Ways of Angels


  1. “a hope so inarticulate it can only break” — what a lovely phrase for something antithetical to lovely.

  2. doesn’t that line just feel like breaking? like something so fragile!

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