by Jill Fuller
Do you think as often as I do
about the rock we rested on,
watching the sea fling itself
against the cliffs below
as if trying to reach us?
How the stones we laid on
are still there, pillowed by swells,
how the waves continue to curl
their foamy mouths onto each boulder
before falling back, chests heaving,
eager to return, as we have longed to do?
Your hair is now flecked sea-foam white.
In our bed, I fold my breath into you,
return to the tide of your arms.
When we sleep beneath stones,
the island will do the remembering—
our footsteps, our hands held,
our lips pressed close.
Jill Fuller (she/her) is a librarian, writer, and the co-creator of Let Genius Burn, a podcast on the life of author Louisa May Alcott. Her work has been published in Humana Obscura, the Bello Collective, and Literary Ladies Guide. You can usually find her out in her garden, playing LEGOS with her son, writing late at night, planning her next trip to Ireland, staring into space, or reading history books. Say hello on Instagram @jill.full or sign up for periodic essays at jillfuller.substack.com.
Emerge Literary Journal 