Emily Neuharth

Emily Neuharth currently writes from Chicago, one of her many home-places. She is pursuing an MFA at Northwestern University. Her work has appeared at or is forthcoming from Salon, Petrichor, DASH, and elsewhere.

soak

Full moon in dark contrast.

Sitting close, feeling far

The hot tub holds us.

Steam rises, tears drop.

His words float on water:

Leave me wanting.

Something fell tonight.

I need more than him but

Won’t the break drown me.

I look up, down:

white sphere against navy.

God help me

Do it. Snow cloaks my shoulders

Burning wet skin I let it

Stay and grow colder.

I still want for him:

Soothe my pain, fill me.

But I’m on my own

Sinking into night.

Won’t the grief lift from my arms—

Rise, chlorine incense.

Is that you God

Moon shining down at me blurry,

Ghostly reflection.

Read Emily’s work and more in Solum Journal Volume III.