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POETRY
Hands Like Secrets Are So Hard to Keep from You
Alex Marchesi

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You’d share your pockets in the cold
when I was too headstrong to go back
inside and grab a jacket, and I’d laugh
at how cherry red your nose got in the
winter and marvel at the self-insulating
chamber you’d build out of bed sheets.
We used to climb into off-duty lifeguard
chairs, watch the currents overlap and
crash into one another, and stare down
the tidal waves that’d peter out before
they even reached shore, kinda like my
panic attacks when I’m with you. Sleeping
on the beach was our one pastime, and
if I could leave the east coast behind with
all but the sand between my toes and
those Atlantic summer memories, just
know they will never match the days
I’d wake up and see the untanned skin
on my chest in the shape of your hand.


Alex Marchesi started writing as a combatant to his insomnia during college. He was an avid musician, playing guitar and declaring a music major while attending SUNY Oswego. Soon though, he learned to love lyric writing a lot more than plugging into an amp, graduating with a creative writing degree in 2015.