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Heather M. Browne



He slipped under my skin

Slid right in there to stay

Embedded and lodged


I could see him


This part, not of me still


Leaving his strong, straight trail, his mark

Knowing he didn’t belong

But pulling free hurts


So I left him

As you do for a while

Careful not to press, anything


The longer he stayed, the deeper nudging

My skin trying to hide him there

Pretending it’s okay to stay


Until infection hits, burning red and hot

The throb of knowing splinters

Broken pieces are never whole 

Whispering Moon


She speaks to me of secrets

Whisperings in the dark

Before she rises radiant

Her curved shoulders smooth

I long to kiss

Collar bones straight and oh so sharp

Carrying the weight of night, the pull of tides

She kneels on slippery satin sheets

Trying to rise, to float on crested wave


The air is crisp and holding

Her luminous face shines fiery in opal rage

The froth and foam flickering her soiled feet

She fights and kicks, releasing herself in bubbles burst

Dripping stars onto the bleak and blank of nighttime sky

A slight hue of crimson


Looking down, far above this evil, this dirty land

She caresses my cheeks moonbeams

Her fingers igniting my hair in glow

I am willing

Hands open to cup and hold her radiant voice

She sings to me her lullaby as stars fall

Drifting into the empty barren night

And painfully offers me her gift

Her tiny babe, a moonstone

To rock and hold, in serenade, aglow



She takes off her woolen coat

Unbuttoning one by one

With shaky hands tremble



She looks into pockets

For yesterdays lost

Movie ticket, gum

Finding only an embroidered hanky



Breathes out, once

Her coat slips

Revealing, skin


And naked before me

Offering only her cottoned initials

To remember

She slides


A frumpled pile


On the hard oak

Planked floor

Knot Magazine

Heather M. Browne is a faith-based psychotherapist and recently emerged poet, currently nominated for the Pushcart Award, published in Lost Coast Review, Lake, the Orange Room, Boston Literary Review, Page & Spine, Eunoia Review, Poetry Quarterly, The Poetry Bus, Red Fez, The Muse, An International Journal of Poetry, Deep Water Literary Journal, Electric Windmill, Maelstrom, Apeiron, mad swirl, KNOT MAGAZINE, Dual Coast and many more.  Her chapbook, We Look for Magic and Feed the Hungry has been published by MCI. She won the Nantucket Poetry Competition in 2014, and was a semi-finalist in Casey Shay chapbook competition.  Red Dashboard released her first collection, Directions of Folding.  Recently widowed from her love of 24 years, she lives with her 2 amazing teens, and can be found frolicking in the waves.  Follow her:

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