Hannah Nathanson

I Spent The Summer Trapped Inside Of A Raindrop

The first two weeks, 
the sleeve of his yellow 
raincoat, waiting to be 
taken off the hook. 

Eventually, migration
to his hair, wash me out 
down the drain.  

The next three weeks 
the sewer pipes,


but I was raised right.

In Buffalo, we don’t stop 
because of grime-friend-rats. 

You know, I never
realized how good I was
at holding my breath. 
I make this 
revelation for the twelfth time
as if I’m thinking it aloud.

I do so while sitting  

on my bed across from 
him and he doesn’t get it, 
says there’s nothing to get.  

I hear it rains a lot
in West Virginia. Maybe 
I’ll end up there.

Hannah Nathanson is 19 years old and based in New York State. Her poetry has been published in journals, such as Philosophical IdiotPeach MagCurate Journal, and My Next Heart: New Buffalo Poetry. For more information visit hannahnathanson.wixsite.com/poetry or check her out on instagram @h.annahrose.