Voicemail Poems

We learned to love the birds. The backyard bird with her black cap and white cheeks. The flicker so flirty in his polka dot dress and red scarf. The bus-stop-bird who mocked us each morning with a mixtape of songs by someone else. We learned to love the bones. The mismatched shingles on the mansard roof and the pumpkin-colored door. The wrought iron staircase and windflower wallpaper– the backdrop for crushed velvet dresses and top hats. We learned to love the pool. The feeling of lungs so full of breath we learned to live underwater. Our fins unfurled and settled at the bottom of the ceramic basin. The sub-aquatic sounds, muted and muddy, but unmistakably mermaid. We learned to love through frayed feathers and stone skin and saltwater dreams. We learned to love through all the silly seriousness of being immortal teens. ————————————– Colette Love Hilliard called us from St. Louis, MO. voicemailpoems.org/submit/ facebook.com/voicemailpoems x.com/voicemailpoems bsky.app/profil