top of page

back down here again

Faith Hill



back down here again


all neurotransmitters and pheromones and evolution

but ants—

do they feel a hardness like this in the back

of their throat like

a little animal that can’t get out





I fall in love shamelessly, all the time


I burn down from my top like a wick

I slip out my side door and lose all my endings

I look down and I am halfway through the sidewalk

on my way to something else, falling


and then there is everything that I can’t see

and then there is the grasping

for something to hold onto


you disintegrate at my touch and I fall down

one hundred flights of stairs





trying to put my finger on what feels so heavy,

I keep taking off layers

but there are always more

Faith Hill is an editorial fellow at The Atlantic in Washington, DC. This is her debut poetry publication.

bottom of page