By Kora Schultz
hey, baby. I’m sorry to bother you.
It’s just that I can’t hear the salt
in the water. I can’t feel the space
between earth and sun. remember
when you were soft in the middle?
remember when your voice was
made of dust and sweet bone? no,
I haven’t been sleeping. the
mattress still holds but it sounds
like a glow stick. I heard you
found a good one to wait with.
could you mail me your curl of
pressed violets? it’s not for sex
reasons. pinky promise. I’m still
not sure how phones work.
hey, baby.
love is a great way to kill time.
Author:
Kora Schultz (they/them) is a queer Wisconsin-based poet and writing student. By day, they work with folks experiencing homelessness and mental health crises. Their work has appeared in Mineral Magazine and is forthcoming in The Hellebore, Goat’s Milk, and Blisters. You can find them on Instagram @oatmilkmom and Twitter @oatmilkmom.
This piece is a part of DISTANCED 2.0.
ang(st) 