Back to Fall 2021

Agape

I want to love me so soft

the blood in my veins

runs sweet.

Place my right hand

over my chest, so I can feel

my heartbeat and my breath

at the same time.

When I wash up, I rub the backs

of my hands first, twist

my palms together, cross

my fingers, rinse. I want

to love me so soft I do not need

lotion or soap as an excuse

to touch myself—so soft

my naked body feels fine

in and out of the shower.

At the desk. Under sheets.

Sitting cross-legged

on my bedroom floor.

So soft my pulse

slows under my palm.

Press my lips to my wrist

when I come home.

Eva Lynch Comer’s poetry has most recently appeared in Capsule Stories Magazine,

Peach Velvet Magazine, Last Leaves Magazine, and Analogies & Allegories Literary Magazine. She now works in children’s editorial at a publishing company in New York City. When she’s not fully immersed in the book world, you can find Eva singing, journaling, drinking chai tea, or walking her dog Osito.

Poetry board, Spring 2019