A blush of night-bloom.
That exquisite last word.

In the type of family that could afford
To fall apart, a young girl grows
More hands than things to cling to. She’s

Just thumbnail innocence, motel white
Wallpaper thighs and perforated silence
In glitter flecked too-open hands.

In a scrapbook she redeems family like prayer.

See page 7:

     When she was only her father’s trembling hand.
     Repression as spectacle.
     Her mother’s long goodbye.

See Page 12:

     Her home’s silent era.
     A way to make love with their eyes closed.
     Her mother’s short sigh.

She tells each scrap the things
She used to tell them.

There are only 6 pages left now, and she’s said everything.
But not this.


Ian Campbell Hill is a 24-year-old writer from Wisconsin now living in Colorado. They’ve been published in The Meadow Literary Journal and Birds Piled Loosely.

Vagabond City Literary Journal

Founded in 2013, we are a literary journal dedicated to publishing outsider literature. We publish art, poetry, and creative nonfiction from marginalized creators.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s