The Walls We Are Inside

goodbye-6tz-prints

For the man who doesn’t need me,

I am a million wanting hands growing from stones

too hard

and impenetrable to sprout

anything at all.

Against me, an ocean.

–cold.

–grey.

It is a mirror

unconcerned with the self I want to see

–always

I am facing the wrong direction

and so is he.

Sometimes,

I am an open mouth

wrinkling for lack of moisture and he is the whale’s tail

fanning warm, salty air against my tongue.

It is then, that wet and dry are the same to a wanting body

and survival

is in a difference I refuse to know.

If only I could sink beneath the water

where his eyes are.

Would I know him then?

-Angie Hoover

Art: Goodbye by Michael Harford

The Way it Happened

Cold sands

rolling

over dents and dunes

silent as death

and

only my chilly lips between to feel them pass–

At once, light

and stiff- a densely packed strip of shoreline

separating east from west.

spit from swallow

speak from sleep.

I recognize this place.

It is where pale

strands of life

rest

on my nose

exhausted after being pulled

and stretched

It is where fingers sag limp

from grasping the wind

too tightly.

And you cannot help me

because only I am here

with my voice

breaking against that relentless wind

that tells me

I can never know the truth

though it is buried somewhere near

“The Way It Happened” by Angie Hoover-Hillhouse

Artwork by Agnes Cecile

I am not a lesbian

I am not a lesbian. Not really.

but I know what it is to ache for a woman.

To be her smiles and her tears

To know

That she is the truth

To fantasize about feeling her breasts and her belly

About making her cum

About making her feel less lonely

but I am not a lesbian

not really.

” I am not a Lesbian” by Angie Hoover-Hillhouse

Artwork: The Secret by David Delruelle

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

and

I know that waiting is all there is

anymore.

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

Rouge Illusion

with blurry fingers

and white shadows

she beckons me

to her

mirrored hall

—- madness

————

–I won’t go

no, I won’t go–

but you are always in my eyes

spinning shadows

into

fire

underneath your

bloody rose

“What it is to be Red” by Angie Hoover-Hillhouse

Artwork: Rouge Illusion by Elle Hanley

Where it’s Safe

I am here–

No hands to grasp

the prickly air

limbs that long

for impossible

love–

But

here

— a face stuffed

with pale, white

mud

–so that the world

will never get in

or out

of me.

-“Where I am Today” Angie Hoover-Hillhouse

I will Protect You

My gaze–

brown and hard–

poses on

your

tiny

back,

piercing holes

into those

that you

do not

wish

to face.

“Safe” by Angie Hoover-Hillhouse

Artwork: Immunity by Filmout

Never have I ever

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