๐’ฎ๐‘œ๐“‚๐‘’๐“‰๐’พ๐“‚๐‘’๐“ˆ ๐’ฒ๐’ฝ๐‘’๐“ƒ ๐ผ ๐’ฏ๐’ถ๐“€๐‘’ ๐‘€๐“Š๐“ˆ๐’ฝ๐“‡๐‘œ๐‘œ๐“‚๐“ˆ ๐ผ ๐’ž๐“‡๐“Ž ๐ต๐‘’๐’ธ๐’ถ๐“Š๐“ˆ๐‘’ ๐ผ ๐‘€๐’พ๐“ˆ๐“ˆ ๐‘€๐“Ž ๐น๐“‡๐’พ๐‘’๐“ƒ๐’น๐“ˆ (โยดโ—ก`โ)

Phoebe Bennett

You placed a

single mushroom

on my tongue.

 

I filled up the

bathtub and

became a mermaid.

I walked through

the fog, crying,

because Nina would

love all of the damp

tree bark. She could

name each of their

species.

 

I toweled off.

Tears rolled down

my bright pink

cheeks. I was

in a tent alone.

You were there,

and you werenโ€™t.

 

I want to forage

for herbs. Drink

tea. Whisper to

the fairies.

 

Iโ€™d like to be

mermaids again.

 
 

Phoebe Bennett is a New England-born, Los Angeles-based poet and a Virgo. Her Venus is in Cancer. She writes from a vintage childrenโ€™s brass bed she found on Facebook marketplace.

@phoebeannebennett