By Anna Reeser


I catch the fall on my lips.
Jaw opens loud into the asphalt.

First the sound of plates breaking,
cringe of blood, teeth splinter
like a shattered cabinet of china.

You arrive to see me on a stiff bed
covered in towels, smaller,
jagged nerves exposed.

I cover my mouth with my hands.
I can only imagine how purple,
unkissable, the lips, two oven mitts,
the teeth, just gone.

But you’re not screaming; your breath
makes the air in this half-room warmer.
Still I cry, mumble something
about taking prettiness for granted
as if pronouncing words will help.

TAGS: , ,

ANNA REESER’s creative process moves between poetry, prose and graphic compositions. She regularly publishes her writing, paintings and etchings on her blog, Paper House. Anna grew up in the small valley of Ojai, California and graduated from UC Berkeley with degrees in English and Art Practice in the Spring of 2011. During her college years, Anna was editor-in-chief and the primary designer of the Cal Literature & Arts Magazine, a journal that publishes student writing and visual art. Anna’s work appears in C.L.A.M. as well as the Suisun Valley Review. In 2009, her entry won the Dorothy Rosenburg Prize in Lyric Poetry. Anna currently works as an editorial intern at Counterpoint/Soft Skull Press in Berkeley, CA where she designs book covers and proofreads bluelines. Anna is also an associate in design & communications at Cogent Legal, a litigation graphics firm in Oakland, CA.

One response to “Kiss”

  1. I’m really growing to love a lot of the poetry here at TNB. Thanks, Anna, for another great one.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *