Heather Voraphongphibul
Reasons I Wish I Could Love Myself
I can still
swallow the earthy pricks of pinecones
with my constellation palm, one big spotty lifeline,
maybe too long, but it's only because my hands
must unhinge on all these daily worlds, dumb jaws, always hungry
for simple galaxies, the sting of a used band room gong, these reverberations
are heartbeats heaving out music, skipping cd of youth choir songs, sputter, finger paint tubes, I hate
leaving things behind, I've been here for the blinks of centuries dawning, forgetting, regretting my open
ovens, hunting sturdy discount chairs at the antique mall, I wish all this dust was just dust because I've known stars,
I'm tired of them, their important, nagging sparkle, give me the splinter of patio wicker, leftover decades, even when they stick
and hurt, especially when they hurt, these reedy teeth, I let them hurt, let nothing burn out, don't set fire in this still blackness,
the shade of this life that pokes through, basket notches, let me endure all this yard sale breakdown of a body, I still believe it could
end happy
Bio
Heather Voraphongphibul is an English instructor and a creative writing student in the Master of Arts in Professional Writing at Kennesaw State University. She has focused on short-form poetry for much of her writing career. Her works have been published in Haiku Journal, Poetry Quarterly, Nota Bene, and elsewhere.