by Hazel J. Hall

we are a high school, honey-love crush,
terribly beautiful at our
tipping point to the contact.
staring into abyssal zones.
walking on water;
wading;
raising generations
of fish through this
finality. the poem steering
directionlessness into its
narrative. the death of
oceans as a wicked strangling
no one wants to solve.
it is all simply too evil
and we are too pure to know
what terrible beauty comes down to us.
a life and death hypocrisy,
when we are flying
in that first
weightless step.
walking on water
until
bottom.
staring into abyssal zones
which are closer now.

Hazel J. Hall

• Link
• Twitter

Hazel J. Hall (she/they) is an eighteen-year-old disabled-queer writer based in rural New Hampshire. Right now, she is pursuing an English degree while working on her first novel. More of Hazel’s work can be found in Wishbone Words, Overtly Lit, and Beltway Poetry Quarterly, with other pieces forthcoming or visible at their site, hazeljhall.com.

_{^{Artist: Jennifer Moher}}