when you are not.

when you are absurdly 

non-judgmental and 

the space 

you hold is sacred 

and true and vast 

when you are an open 

wound the size of 

a glacier before 

years of heat  

and you still try

without hesitation 

when you have hands 

of magic and know 

where pain lurks

to softly grant her 

the grace to escape

when you are scared 

and do it anyway

give everything they ever

wanted and still 

you are not her 

 

© 7.6.24 heather brager

use me.

I have never really
been ornamental.

sure, porcelain. 

shiny pennies.

dewy sunlight, 

jingling between your

fingers. but what 

purpose is this 

tenderness, this 

sharpened wit, 

this mischievous 

insight, eyes that peer 

through you to 

your hidden core.

sure it’s beautiful, but

when will it be useful 

right, or wrong.

how many times 

have I been left 

holding the bag

holding the empty.

fucking.

bag.

how many

times have I been right

how many times

did I trudge through 

the motions, our emotions 

because I did not trust 

an inner voice

telling me to leave

how much of the 

purest love and

coveted hours

have been wasted  

since you 

told me that

closed mouthes 

don’t get fed

how many lies 

have you told

yourself while we

peered deep 

inside each 

other’s minds 

how many times 

did our eyes lock

on the right 

timeline

how many times

have you martyred

yourself to an 

imaginary construct  

instead of doing right

by me. 

how many times 

will you miss 

me while turning left

instead of right. 

 © 5.10.24 heather brager

like minds.

I have never 

been so alone 

as when I told you 

what I needed 

and you said 

you understood.

the space I haunt  

longs for nothing 

but presence, and still 

you choose fear.

if our tongues had 

not touched

or the contrast 

of our skin bent under 

the pressure of our 

fingertips 

if it was only 

our minds 

that touched,

only our minds. 

you deliberately left 

me alone when you knew 

loneliness was 

hunting me down.

you ran her errands, answered 

a few calls, picked up dinner,

smoked without calling,

slept next to her.

 

I have never been 

so alone as when 

we touched minds. 

 © 4.07.24 - heather brager

the prayer.

 

daybreak has crept through

open window screens to cling to shadows,

linen curtains puff gently against the 

promise of springtime, and I pray to the

moment through my cool, naked skin

will this estrangement ever fold 

its strong arms around this body, kiss 

my aging belly and guide strands of soft hair 

away from my face, and I pray with 

grace to continue to breathe, breathe

have I ever truly encountered myself with 

the fervor of newfound love, commitment of 

starlings in early season migration, a playlist

curated though late night atmospheres of 

smoke and solitude, have I ever held myself 

gently, with the trust I have gifted men,

whispered in my ear of the years I have

captivated my own heart, granted the beauty of

devotion despite hopeless pain, how much blind

faith I have invested in each dawn

© 2.28.2024 heather brager

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