My Writing, Poetry, Ramblings

Sweet Nothings

Rachel Sandell

I love your sweet nothings,

little kisses you drop

landing on the back of my neck

like raindrops, splish,

 

splash, or like a soft knock

on my bedroom door,

tap, tap, tap,

may I come in?

 

The pad of your thumb

paces across my hairline,

smoothing my edges;

make me whole.

 

Lately, I’ve been feeling halved,

cut not down the middle,

like scissors

gliding through paper,

 

but rather, like one side

of a grapefruit,

guts ripped out and devoured,

my sweetness vanished.

 

How much grace

will you

gift me,

my other half, 

 

my better half,

as you drizzle kisses

on the top of my head

like maple syrup on pancakes?

 

I love your

sweet 

nothings;

they fill me up again.

 

Photo by Luke Pennystan on Unsplash

Published by Rachel Sandell

Rachel Sandell is a writer and editor from Washington State, where rainy days necessitate long books, hot chocolate, and plenty of magic. Though she specializes in speculative fiction and harbors a love for the dark and enchanting, she also dabbles in poetry and is the archive project coordinator for Fireweed: Poetry of Oregon. She is an MFA graduate from the Rainier Writing Workshop, and her short stories have appeared in SORTES magazine, Night Picnic Press, and Leading Edge magazine.