A poem from issue 03 of To The People, a zine by YTTP Studios
fingers crossed your phone survives this love
by Demeter Appel-Riehle
my friends hold me with hands like stars
sew a heartline across the country
bury it in
a you got this in the groupchat
no, really, have a bite of my food on the lunchbreak
here, let me pull up your birth chart
did you know all cancer risings’ mouths look the same?
whisper care into every
breath like honeysuckle
from the passenger seat in a car on the 405
to a text thread with a home still in iowa
i want my fire to be soft enough
to fit in a forever stamp
to package for them & send
across the country to soothe
a scalding headline, a bitter evening
to cup the grief
i cannot ladle out
of my own stomach
to write one good poem
for every heartbeat i can hear
in the other room
when it’s too hard to write of
anything else
but the click of pipes turning on & a roaring wave &
sorrow
when hope goes out like a limelight
& my mind goes out for a walk so long
i think it will never come back
i remember the sweetness only we can touch
brittle & blazing
and still warm enough to survive this year
a promise to drink more water
listen to more music
sing louder
to love hard enough to keep breathing
