I tend to speak in riddles That sound like normal sentences To people hearing them I like to fool even myself As I have learned to understand That my impulsive brain is smarter Then my decisive brain Chills in a warm room Cold words, long days Bare feet on wood floor I feel the breaths of A thousand lungs on my soles And each one I've held Is pinned to a mental chalkboard One so dense with scribbles That you can hardly see my Poem written beneath it I've found three things today: Blueprints of my desk Hazel eyes, pine nut lips My grandmother's recipes I forgot to mention That I found The word I was looking for Concubinage No, Decoupled. /////// Robyn Hager grew up in Morris County, New Jersey before moving to the Hudson Valley in 2017. She pursued her passion for creative writing and the arts at SUNY New Paltz and graduated with her MA in Creative Writing in May 2022. Her first poetry collection, "Sewage Flowers", was published in the summer of 2019, and her work has also been published in the 2020 and 2021 editions of The Stonesthrow Review and the 2022 edition of The Shawangunk Review. She has edited for the 2021 edition of The Stonesthrow Review and is currently editing an anthology of work by her peers that is set to be published in the summer of 2022. Read a book review by Robyn Hager in this issue.