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Francesca Leader

Between the Waves of Grief
Between the Waves of Grief by Francesca Leader.png
In the Last Few Seconds Before I See You

I tread a damp verge

At sunset—closer, closer to where I know frogs are


Until one leaps—

                                         (You open your door)

Long After I'm Gone, My Hair

will be

in drains

in carpets

in asphalt

in birds’ nests.

in the lining of that coat of mine you like (the one with the hole in the pocket).

in landfills

in sewer pipes

in raindrops

in the ocean’s    black deep, and (if I may wish it)

in between your back teeth, man I love, that you might savor the memory of how it came

to lodge there, and be all right,

long after,

long after

I’m                                                                                                                                                         gone.



Francesca Leader is a self-taught, Pushcart-nominated writer born in Washington, and raised in Montana. She has poetry published or forthcoming in the Sho Poetry Journal, Frost Meadow Review, Door is a Jar, Stanchion, Nixe’s Mate, Streetcake, Bullshit Lit, Cutbow Quarterly, and elsewhere. Learn more about her work at

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