Bleeding into the brain
Forgive me for learning by
putting words in my mouth
and spitting them out
Bleeding into the space around the brain
worn stone
steps, years long
gone, stained,
glass shimmering,
light-brushed high
stone, quiet
crypts
easing open, our chests
heavy rows of flickering
candles between pews
what room
is there
to play
what space
Blood clot inside the skull causing pressure on brain
the moment I confess
to a life spent trying, bare
hints of a smile, fragile curls of cirrus
stretched thin as the crown
of a thunderstorm, fanning out from the eye
not quite hurricane, not yet
Concussion
Positive: sometimes !10! !10! !10! !10! !10! !10! ::parhelion, an !10! !10! !10! !10! !10! :that bright spot
indicates a presence !10! !10! !10! !10! !10! !10! atmospheric optical !10! !10! !10! to one or both sides
where there should be !10! !10! !10! !10! !10! phenomenon: !10! !10! !10! !10! !10! !10!of the sun
none::
Morgan Hamill is a disabled poet and a graduate student in English Literature at Penn State, where she has been awarded a McCourtney Family Distinguished Graduate Fellowship. In 2019, she was a poetry semi-finalist in Nimrod's Francine Ringold Awards for Emerging Writers. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Cimarron Review, Copper Nickel, and The Southern Review.