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On Returning - Hanna Webster

In your bedroom,

you hold me close

my chest shot-through from virus,

cylinders of light cracking my ribs

sternum woven shut,

me, gasping

I once wrote you a poem

titled “In Sickness & in Health”

lamenting on loss, your dissolution

but you’re here again,

a waterfall of yourself,

and I smell vanilla on your skin.

Is this devotion?

Or is this not knowing when to quit

smoking the cigarettes that will kill you?


Hanna Webster is a San Diego-based science writer, poet, and graduate student at Johns Hopkins University. She has a B.S. in neuroscience and creative writing from Western Washington University. You can read her work in Jeopardy Magazine, Beyond the Veil Press, The Xylom, and elsewhere.



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