Category: art

Never have I ever

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At 12 I didn’t have that

homoerotic

best friendship that I’ve

seen in movies–

I never eased my sweaty

palm into yours

and we never

shared powdery-pink

kisses during sleepovers

just for practice.

I always slept on my side

clinging to a small square of

purple sheet

instead of with you

forehead

to forehead

in a sea of plush blankets

You were always different.

Sometimes Lisa

sometimes Brie

Jenny, Mia, Amy

and those faces in between.

and I always felt alone with you

because we never touched.

–all of you so far away

and me too

smart to reach.

But

I choose to have

your girlish warmth–

—lipstick—

— secrets—

youth

A mirage of adolescent love

to make myself

feel

whole

by Angie Hoover-Hillhouse

The Women

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The women

are made of

heaven’s ruby lips

and honey-colored stares–

——–They are

those

chills

that prickle covered arms

 in the brisk night air-

and

——— those

mysterious

flirtations

that  warm dead fingers

with the electricity

of

promise.

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but deep

in the bones of their pretty feet

—–deep

in the pits

of their brown bellies

is a passion sickened

and pale.

-Too old and beaten

to come

to life

for me.

-Angie Hoover -Hillhouse