THE PORTALS OF TRUTH OR CONSEQUENCES
Poetry by Bella DeHart
an intimation
that beyond articulation lives in
the body my unspeakable
cohabitating with revelation so sweet it slips
like dream sieving thru
fingers stranger palming
cigarette or narcan, mountain rearing up to
sky gumming the jagged ridge
gemmed with birds the
trees shrouded in
cloud soft soaring &
wind cradling wings to
flight he says write the
worst of it out four
steps to deliverance but it doesn’t
live in language how many ways are there to say
it was me it was me it was mine.
Bella DeHart lives in a creaky-floored apartment in Maine where she drinks excessive amounts of coffee, writes, and mends things.
