by Garrison Harper
Evening came on like a bruise,
the air hung thick with the scent
of their full-bodied song buried, frosted over—
the shadow that hovered between words,
the limits of separateness.
Bury me on the high ground.
Our mouths are dry from conversation
and laughter, some things should be forgotten
like dreams of dying.
There was always beauty in death
trapped in the loose angles—
my body sculpted from ash and clay to the dirt of graveyards again
We press ourselves together, anchoring
a single, winged truth. I touch
only metaphors, hold them like worry stones
or teardrops. Fingerprints are a way of speaking
too low in the sky to be a star—
they throw us into the air.
Bury me burning, blooming in the dark earth.
I watched you rise like rain;
your hair was black fire.
We grew apart between love into hate
and sad letters, our dreams heavy fingers
reaching along my body born from the cutting board.
It’s easy to forget—
knowing is to find the mirror
stitched through the body painted
from tar and blood.
I’d take my chances with the storm.
Summer 2013 | “Between Emily and a Lime; Jake Russel | “Aubade”; Joseph Nicolas | “Angles of Betrayal; Cara Schiff | “The Last of Us”; Samantha Seto | “Family Secret”; Annalee Kwochka | “Coming in to Land”; John Grey | “Cello”; Christine Tsen | “Knowing”; Alexandra Daley | “Forgetful Times”; Jason Irwin | “Atom Smashers”; Jonathon Flike | “Loba”; Genevieve Salazar | “The Other End of Buck Key”; Mitchell Storar | “Slow Motion”; Doug Bolling | “Subconscious”; Amanda Peterson | Moment of/Grey; Amber Hollinger|
Garrison Harper writes and writes and writes whenever the opportunity presents itself. When they’re not writing, they’re spending time with their family and every once in a while sleeps. They have some books and some published work here and there but nothing is as important as their hope you’ll fall in love with their words.
Emerge Literary Journal 