Hair Ties

By Lily Hinrichs  

Hair ties. 

From dior and fresh. 

Tan concrete houses,

Cold, caring, tingly. 

White marigolds and lilies,

Bloom endlessly around my heart.

Gorgeous, beautiful and soft. 

红包 and hyperactive movements.

Tickle good memories.  

Circles and idiocy, 

Are my foundation. 

From secrecy and seclusion. 

Can you see the 

Lutheran christianity, and St. Mark Encinitas in me? 

La Jolla, Germany, and China. 

Puzzle pieces that fit together just right. 

Fried tomatoes and eggs and 葱油饼.

Right shoulder conflictions and the ant tree.

Constant reminders of childhood.  

The uneven fat distribution, 

Kyoto, 上海, Seattle, Denver, New Mexico, and Quebec,

They all flow through my veins. 

A pulsing, almost painful feeling. 

兔子 with 裤子, and pokes on the back. 

I’m from ignorance, and responsibility. 

Rebellion and hugs and modeling. 

But of course, all you see is my face. 

You know nothing about me. 

Martyr

By Lily Hinrichs

She's a martyr. 

Enclosed in robes of shame. 

She’s a martyr.

A raisin for a heart. 

Periwinkle tears drip from an open wound. 

An unclosed wound. 

An unceasing wound. 

A piece forcefully grabbed out of her ribs. 

She's a martyr. 

She clings onto every drop 

Every bloom of sadness on her skin. 

That only one other life can fix.

She slowly loses existence. 

He's a preacher. 

A periwinkle preacher. 

His lesion latched onto hers. 

Periwinkle life to Periwinkle light. 

A grape is now in the place of the raisin. 

Legions of lilies bloomed to life. 

Is she really a martyr?