we shared a drink amid the milkweed
too shy to see him through anything
but summer screen of bees and bergamot
he wrote me notes all in Garamond
folded lines, autumn tang of coffeeshop
woodgrain pressed braille under the letters
he didn’t comprehend when I fed his paper
through nourishing flame, folded into loam
how I preserved his words in rootstock
how it could be read in abecedarian
in spring’s wet tasseography of old leaves
the resurrection of trillium and trout-lily
we shared an apartment, for a little time
too shy to see each other through anything
milkweed split, spilled words through the air
Rick Hollon (they/them) is a genderqueer author, photographer, parent, and former archaeologist, with roots in Appalachia and the American Midwest. They are currently writing two collections of poetry, and are planning several novels. Their poetry has appeared in Delicate Friend, Kaleidotrope, Stanchion, miniskirt magazine, and elsewhere. Their website is mimulus.weebly.com.