Myths tell of the hanged man as a fetus floating head-down,
Suspended in some liminal fluid
That fills the seamless space between the past and the future.
We are becoming more ourselves with every breath.
I hear my heart mutter its name in my chest
And then pause, listening for yours.
I do not have a promise for you or a ring to give you.
I cannot even gather words up in a sheaf to leave in a vase on your table.
But I can place each of my hands in each of yours.
I can wait for a seed to unfurl from the dark earth:
When it blooms, I will tell you what it is.
Luca Salerno is a poet, artist, scientist, and parent. He has had the pleasure of seeing his work published in diverse outlets including TERSE Journal, Journal of Neuroscience Research, and the U.S. patent register. Luca lives in Pittsburgh with his partner and daughter.