topography, you

From airplane view of vast snowy terrain at dusk

for Wick


my head lies in the soft soil

of your skin, the canopies of our leg hair forestry

sway as our knees rub together like kindling

you call my middle & pointer fingers little men

as they run up your patch of happy trail

& shrieks from the tickle fountain from your lips

pooling w/ spit, I kiss you w/ a tangerine slice

between my teeth as you squeeze the mountains

of my hips


Poem by Halsey Hyer

Halsey Hyer is currently earning their MFA from Florida International University. They are an Associate Editor for the Pittsburgh Poetry Journal, member and mentor of the Madwomen in the Attic writing workshops, and collective member of The Big Idea Bookstore. Their work has been featured or in Voices From the Attic XXV, The Blue Nib, and Show Us Your Papers Anthology, and elsewhere.