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Two Poems by McCaela Prentice


everything smells like honeysuckle

at the wedding and I think what it must be

to love like leaving a tab open

or a thrown bouquet that will not

hit the ground.

at the open bar all of the drinks have clove—

have the taste of a summer I am lucky

to have lived through. A man tells me

he can’t stop thinking about Sisyphus—

says in all his dreams the halls are inclined.

we agree that all things eternal

are damnation but I keep thinking of the dress

of red wine spilled on white sheets

and the honeymoon.


ladle that dark into my mouth

and maybe it will taste

like honey or like lobster bisque

will be so dense on my tongue that I

will barely be able to lift it

when I say to you

I saw the closing of the hands

each night around the sun

and that it did not feel like love

to be held only for the sake

of being hidden.


McCaela Prentice (she/her) is living in Astoria, NY. Nudibranchs are her favorite gastropods. Her poems have previously appeared in Hobart, Ghost City Review, and Perhappened. Her debut chapbook “Junk Drawer Heart” was published in 2020 by Invisible Hand Press.

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