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Hannah Schenker

Come over


We could cook and stare and eat awhile,

smoke with the sky, incensed,

watch the darkness watch

the ocean in me changes



We will not be the first

We will not be the first

We will not be the first


to seek the light

to stalk the stars

to sing my scars

to shuffle closer, by the night

cloaked. A little of me




too much over here.

Too much in my hands,

as I eat it all up.


Gobbling down my leaves and bones,

ashes and tulips and dew.


I am going to win this.


Hannah Schenker marinates in the mysterious, complex and often conflicting emotions in her lifelong emotional stir-fry and, combined with observations she makes of herself and other people, writes from this place.


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