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

interlude.

morning light 

falling softly over

objects in the room

delicate textures 

adjacent under 

covers

nostalgia is

silent aching

the belly

the heart

her hands 

his skin

she is 

too sensitive 

for this 

world

love is 

an animal

space flooded 

squirming under 

pressure of

drowning

 

he is 

too tender 

restrained by 

anonymous

distance

secrets behind 

locked doors

she is 

a bending 

field of 

wildflowers 

sun blazing 

golden

an emptiness

in his chest

© 12.16.2023 heather brager

just bite me.

the weather is turning and 
I am trivial and timid inside of 
this loud body, slowly peeling off 
skins to show you all I keep inside

the tide is turning and 
I am hearing thoughts you do not 
speak, slowly sifting through
the clues you give away

the clock is ticking and 
I am stroking the hours with
my fingertips and tongue, carving out
space for you inside my chest

the truth is floating and 
I am as wise as I am careless
this softness is sustenance, and
this tenderness has teeth

©11.27.2023 heather brager

your permanent funeral.

you are leaning forward, head in
your hands, in the grey bathrobe that she
gifted you for Christmas 2019
at a desk in the whitebread Midwest
after she mourned your imaginary death
at least ten thousand times

now you resurface out of the gloom
of the past, slowly rising back
into her vision, tourniquets floating to the top
demanding closure while you proceed to gut her
with the splinters of your own regret

you accuse her of manufacturing your pain, the
racism and history of violence and
abuse are hers, dragging random triggers
from the shore, while your
written words are a fabrication and
sunken apology, your attempted murder
botched by the only woman who was
brave enough to love
you and the dismantled
future of your failed escape

that time I wasn’t a Maxim model.

your lips are moving, your

hot mouth forming phrases that you

pocketed after dragging the creek for 

remnants and comparable bodies

you were taught to fill space with 

excuses, justification for why 

you have been missing, validation 

for the reasons that you keep

coming. 

back.

I envision your body sitting still

long enough to feel

the mud settle against your skin,

knowing I could see you drift away

if the water was clear

I calculate and edit for days

until your reappearance, the

creature of dismissal birthed in 

your absence slides out of its den 

with an articulate strike, 

and like the opportunity, you 

are gone.

© 8.31.2023 heather brager

reset the world.

what is perfection  

what you cannot have,

that which sets you free

and pays you back

tenderly, with cupped 

hands

on this timeline 

in this lifetime, you

owe elsewhere 

my heart 

in my mouth 

     om tat sat 

           om tat sat

and your tongue, 

teeth on my neck

what is this really

how much of you

was pieced together

by bleached vertebrae,

crow feather, smoke and

the wind from the 

west deepening  

obsidian, those eyes

and freedom

nailing you down 

om tat sat

© 8.5.2023 heather brager

this is also a metaphor.

he could not decipher her

metaphors, even the deep

agonic faith that drew

him to her

 

frequency, perfectly

harmonized, but

only when they

removed their clothes

 

how he would relish

a tepid avoidance

while she read his

mind in the dark

 

how he left like 

a manufactured

Adonis, hiding

away like thin love

© 7.19.2023 heather brager