Still Life with Unrequited Love by Hannah Yoest

The oranges are all shaved. Rind showing—not undressed or peeled open, mind you, just
stripped for garnish. This is another way of saying you threw a cocktail party—which is another
way of saying you got your self wasted while playing hostess—which is another way of saying
you tried too hard—which is another way of saying cleverness isn’t a virtue—which is another
way of saying the cheese smells worse than when you bought it—which is another way of saying
you’re insecure—which is another way of saying the clock is broken—which is another way of
saying you’ll miss the bus in the morning—which is another way of saying you might have
something in common with Lot’s wife—which is another way of saying when you take a bath it
turns into an ocean—which is another way of saying you cut your teeth on coral—which is
another way of saying the cord tying you to your shadow has come undone—which is
another way of saying you’re a lost child in the wrong house—

which is another way of saying you’re a stranger to what you want.


Hannah Yoest
Hannah Yoest is a writer and editor for a weekly magazine in Washington D.C. Her poetry is forthcoming in several literary magazines this fall and winter. You can find her on Instagram and Twitter.

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