[The way you stood under those stars]
grace (ge) gilbert | Poetry
The way you stood under those stars
like it was romantic, like it was like that,
like it was. I want it to be how it was.
Was it how you pictured it? I want you
to name what it was. How high you
were and who you were with when it
was. Your eyes dark cinders, your
shaking hands deciding how it was.
The way you said lead me on, took a
racecar toward the end there how it
was. We ended where we began, mixed
metal of our thighs touching. You
wanted something sweet. I wanted you
to like me. Even still, even after, even
was. I hadn’t seen you before, then I
saw you, now it was. A bird’s open
beak flying sideways. I didn’t want it
how it was now can’t name what it
is. Can’t name it. Can’t name you. Can’t
name what.
grace (ge) gilbert (they/them) is a poet, writer and collage artist. they received their MFA in poetry from the University of Pittsburgh in 2022, where they now teach. they are the author of Holly (YesYes Books, 2026), a hybrid image and text book about the 1976 murder of their paternal grandmother, as well as three chapbooks: the closeted diaries: essays (Porkbelly Press, 2022), NOTIFICATIONS IN THE DARK (Antenna Books, 2023) and today is an unholy suite (Barrelhouse, 2024). their work can be found in 2023’s Best of the Net Anthology, the Indiana Review, Ninth Letter, Adroit and elsewhere. They teach hybrid collage and poetics courses at Brooklyn Poets, Minnesota Center for Book Arts, and other institutions.