Your Drowning is Contagious

The heavy stone tied to my ankle

is you

because you are smooth,

asleep,  and

sinking downward with all those lovers still attached.

—–At the very bottom,

My eyes are both closed and open

because who can tell the difference down here?

I cannot breath


 I know  that waiting is all there is



I’ll let it happen

like you do–

never stopping to resist

We’re together

you’re alone

dying any time is fine

by Angie Hoover-Hillhouse

Never have I ever


At 12 I didn’t have that


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


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.


I choose to have

your girlish warmth–


— secrets—


A mirage of adolescent love

to make myself



by Angie Hoover-Hillhouse

My morning in Velvet

Emma and Josephine  are Young and in Love

As we sat on the bed

the silk kissing our limbs

the ceiling cracked open to let the light in

you smiled and I felt the warm wind on my nose

the  sheets and the walls fell away as we rose

floating higher and higher until we broke through

spinning and grinning, our spirits so new

soaring among those bright pieces of heaven

petting the velvety purple they rest in

Poem from unfinished play by Angie Hoover

I began writing  this one night while my fiance was asleep. The moonlight was shining in through our bedroom window, and I was overwhelmed with joy and love.  I revisited it several years later and planned to use it in a play that incorporated spoken word poetry. The plot focused on a lesbian romance between two southern women during the Jazz age.