Guinevere, The Morning After
I hid the conflict in my cereal and ate it.
Passion is like French toast at midnight.
It leaves the air thick and sticky when you wake.
My eyes glazed over and stared into the jaundiced pupils of my eggs,
which seemed to know every wicked thought.
a tongue felt but never seen,
skin spiraled around skin.
This is what intimacy is I suppose,
being enamored with the sounds you make when you chew your food –
with everything your mouth does.
The landscape of our lives has been defined by swords,
cutting through our iron veins, carving out the woodland of our hearts.
At the table we never use knives,
we just push the fork into what we want and pull it towards us.
Hannah Wagner is a resident of Salem, Massachusetts. She graduated from Salem State University. She is also an actor and can be seen in many productions across the North Shore. Her work has been featured in The Broke Bohemian, Mass Poetry's Poem of the Moment, Whisper and the Roar, Sudden Denouement, Door is a Jar, Soundings East,Twyckenham Notes, Still Point Quarterly, and Incessant Pipe. You may find her online here: https://hannahwagnerpoetry.wordpress.com/.