Poetry by Hannah Rousselot


pink and yellow are not traditionally
background colors. they scream 

their presence when worn, so
i always wore them as a girl- i hoped 

i could scream through them. the table 
is full of dirty plates so maybe that explains why

this time, those bright colors only just capture
the corner of my gaze. it’s not until the paper

is almost crumpled in my hand that i see
the careful lines and circles. a drawing: a princess

and a castle, like the ones i used to do.
the artist and her young, hip parents were long gone;

they left me an okay tip. i take
the child’s drawing with the dirty napkins

and place it reverently in the garbage.
i leave, take an order, and then hurry

back. it’s still there, untouched by 
tomato sauce. i take it out, fold it,

and stick it in my apron. during my shift
i find my fingers feeling the waxy 

crayon. sometimes i take it out and look,
tracing the lines with my eyes. at the end of the night

i leave it at the restaurant. my next shift
it’s still in my locker, and i think of the little girl

that still lives in my stomach and i feel my heart 
start to contort. i throw out the drawing;

tomato sauce be damned. not all things
are meant to be kept forever, but

some things need a little
more love before they are discarded. 


This place holds power.
It’s hard to believe, standing here
surrounded by tourists (including me)
and stands selling “Restorative Dead Sea Mud!”

but it’s true.

It makes sense, if you think about it,
that the lowest place on Earth would also
have the only surface you can float on;
contradictions are what keep us breathing.

I step into the water. I can feel the salt
tickling my ankles. As I go in further,
my skin starts to sting and remind me
of every recent red cut on my body.

I’m already floating, without realizing.
The sky above me is mirror-blue,
reflecting myself. Here, in this between

place, I think of how the truth
is really as thin as a strand of hair.

If you liked Hannah Rousselot – 2 Poems, then you will also like E.V. McLoughlin

Learn more about Hannah Rousselot on her website, here

Get Hanna Rousselot’s Fragments of You from Kelsay Books

Hanna rousselot

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