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Eli Hera Poem
Under streetlights
In the silence of snow
I am back when my breath was last this loud
Electric
You tug at my t shirt with your left hand and your nails graze my skin
Our pupils dilate, distending out to greet each other in a grotesque bridge of wet, dripping, obsidian flesh
So I feel like a black hole
I am a focus as intense as a drug
A rip on the edge of an edgeless sky
And we are all consuming
And we are almost one.
Sometimes
I wish it wasn’t this way, where I am a clock-watcher, and I glance up to see the hands always aligned.
And so where are we without an endless pull?
Without 12:30?
Without a 12:01?
The clock is broken
Or time has stopped
And it is stale
Or I am stale
Or we are stale
Copyright © Eli Hera | Year Posted 2024
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Eli Hera Poem
Orbit or forfeit but never collide
You’ll just mess it up like last time
On a beach in St. Augustine, Florida, I thought I wanted you.
Orbit or forfeit but never collide
You’ll just mess it up like last time
I could have sworn I knew you from somewhere, the way your hair aligned with the freckles on your nose like a seashell. So distinct. And rare.
Orbit or forfeit but never collide
You’ll just mess it up like last time
I caught your eye. Visions of prairie wagon dirt clouds plumed in my head. I think it was the sea spray. Maybe. Grains of sand splayed on your forearms like stars. You had a dusty look about you.
Orbit or forfeit but never collide
You’ll just mess it up like last time
You smiled, and flakes of crystallized sea salt broke off your skin like a sparkling chrysalis. You were glowing,
but I averted my eye.
My mantric mind.
Orbit or forfeit but never collide
You’ll just mess it up like last time
Copyright © Eli Hera | Year Posted 2024
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Eli Hera Poem
I feel awful my head hurts I keep hearing things I threw up a ton last night. couldn't walk anywhere. had no sense of balance. my head was throbbing all over. it was pulsing pain. I have never felt anything worse. I wanted to die. I thought I was going to die. never again
Copyright © Eli Hera | Year Posted 2024
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Details |
Eli Hera Poem
I was caught
in a rumbling ricochet
I was stuck
In a stranger’s war
I was dust
In an old gold pocketwatch
But that won’t be me anymore
And I was tack
To an old, worn sailor
Watch me tumbling
Far overboard
I could never be one
to be favored
But that won’t be me anymore
How can you look at her like that?
The way she draws you with her eyes
Can pull you in like a static field
Bleeding you out.
Drench me in it,
make me cold.
I don’t care
It’s not me
It won’t be me anymore
Copyright © Eli Hera | Year Posted 2024
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