by Maggie Rue Hess

She knew, when she locked her door, that she should unlock it ready to go down to her unhappy husband and espouse
his sorrow, and say of his guilt, I will mourn and not reproach.
—George Eliot

bad choices I dobad memories I do the wound she made before they ended & every
wound before I do the pain described & the pain untoldI do body of aches, of
discomforts, of disease I do grief for the other body I do grief for the early family
I do the family we buried before its future I do echoes of abandoned dreamsI do
others’ spiteful comments I do mundane disregardI docold mornings I do
missing evenings I dodetails dropped or forgottenI do & when love goes unspoken
I do & when it doesn’t settle I do & when it won’t end, when it carries its own doubt as
armor, when it has no name I do
the name is ours

Maggie Rue Hess (she/her) is a PhD student living in Knoxville, Tennessee, with her partner and their crusty white dog. Her work has appeared in Rattle, Connecticut River Review, SWWIM, and other publications; her debut chapbook, The Bones That Map Us, was published by Belle Point Press in 2024.