Two Poems by Rachel Tanner
Leave the Light On
Thank you for loving me
even when I was easy
Did you think I was going to say thank you
for loving me when I was hard to love?
I am not
hard to love. Neither are you.
This world is built on the wonder of
people who make space for each other
If this isn't god, I have no use for him. Hands
weaving into hand weaving into stories
Babe, did I ever tell you that story— yea, yea,
I probably have. I've probably told you
every story by now. But, see,
when I take a piece of my you-less
past and pluck ya right down the middle,
suddenly things sound a lot more interesting.
Can god tell me stories
that make my toes curl? Can god
stare me down from across a
crowded Walmart and instantly know
the color he'd chosen was awful?
Can god tell me why every time I look
at the sky, I see ground, and every time
I look at the ground, I see sky? I am
upside-down. I am right-side-up.
I am all.
Rachel (she/her) is a queer, disabled writer from Alabama whose work has appeared in Peach Mag, Feed, and elsewhere. She currently writes three monthly-ish columns: video game poetry in Videodame, Taylor Swift poetry in Headcanon Magazine, and movie poetry in For Page and Screen. She tweets @rickit.