the second time I wasn’t a Maxim model.

you dared to think 

you were deceiving 

your audience,

ego glistening like your 

oiled chest in a thirst 

trap, charming fallacy 

with basic façade

flashing lights!  “here

is my genuine character 

       

     I feel nothing.

I will save you if you

rate me using a score 

between one and ten.”

I dared to see your divine 

evolution, depths unfamiliar 

to men wallowing in the shallows

who do not seek the truth

      verity always floats.

I dared reflect on resonant 

hope, touched another time 

with my fingertips as 

they slid across your wet

skin, while the universe 

listened and kept score

if only the sky.

some grey mornings

the years are a 
withered burden,

lost instructions
from a jilted, frozen

atmosphere

wet snow piled on

the roof, a blanket

over every story

their hands holding,

then letting go

tender skin clinging

tightly to muscle,

membrane, and bone

the resilient are

solitary, damp soil

thudding on the coffin

though the stars,

remain an ethereal

tutorial, drifting

across the sky

© 1.9.2024 heather brager

my mouth.

I will inevitably concoct strings
of veracious invocations,
plead for basic commonality
that you will choose to 
devalue on repeat, while
I compete with everything
but the fucking air 
you breathe to be more 
than interim vapor

I will lie alone

and repeat lyrics to each song

under the moon’s phases, inside of 

vacant nights I will inhale the

feral emptiness that 

creeps into the spaces

where you left me waiting,

not caring that my heart

was in my lap

I must speak my truth

I will dream of your beautiful

sleeping face and arms

tenderly with burning regret

while I repeat,

repeat, repeat

you just didn’t know how 

to reach the place

where the river bends

© 1.3.2024 heather brager