The Thing That Really Gets Me or I Should Have Known
That day, the second month,
it was bright out. We woke up together
that morning and stayed in bed all day.
You still looked at me like you were afraid
I’d disappear, something whimsical,
you said— you make me feel whimsical.
The window was open, winter pouring
itself over us like a flood, I slipped under
the blankets with you, pulled the mover
our heads. You, you pressed your nose against mine
to warm it and I whispered poetry against your skin
through my smile, so bright my eyes watered,
Ellen Bass, I remember. This was before
you realized I was human. You sighed,
breath against my lips, hand fisted in my hair,
told me you were falling in love with me. That’s
what you said: Oh girlie, you know I’m falling
for you. And I tried— God, I tried— to push you away.
Told you I was human, smile fading, Just wait I said
Just wait until you realize I’m human.
is a writer and artist based in Virginia. She engages with themes of love, loss, and the natural world. She is a recent graduate of the University of Virginia, receiving her B.A. both Poetry Writing and Global Sustainability. When she’s not creating art, she can be found spending time in nature, playing board games, and enjoying time with loved ones. She has been published in several literary journals including Simple Machines: Engines of Change, Sky Island Journal, Spires Intercollegiate Arts and Literary Magazine and Chomp Journal. More of her work can be found at www.skylarwampler.com and on instagram under the handle @skylar.wampler.