Two Poems
Rachel Baker Lugo
Girl, Friend, and I
Fingers lined and positioned at our heads
You mapped my body with quick pinpoints
In plain sight, so slick it went through me
As I lunged into you in the school hallway
Barricading the masses during classtime rush
Knee deep during blessings and
forewarned benedictions of sorts
Behind our words and Witnesses
Your palms sewed crosses over mine
Our tongues were severed in two
Of Young Eves’ ungodly divide
So I kept my shoulders shrugged
Shelved into my skinny jean pockets
Too shallow to hide the telling scales
Shedding off all shouting evidence
Of your loving rings around my neck
I taught our calluses not to touch
When the sidewalk grew too small
I failed to tell you of how I tried
To scrape off every scent of us
Hiding yet scratching beneath
The chair scribbled floor tiles
With spare steel sponges I found
In hidden corners of the church
Three levels down into the basement kitchen
Where old ladies wished me the bearing luck
Of senior year marriages and social approval
Of teen pregnancies to start my prospective
Young family of far too many
With bleeding hands and tearing gums
I slanted a grin and let my head find buoyancy
So I could find my marred palms
and cover my eyes from the man-shaped dents
Often found on warm tables and lit up faces
behind fists and unopened pew Bibles
Fingers circled and knuckles curled in
Years still yet your marques remain
Meticulously onto my framed bones
Further than sight and languages away
We learned to give breath in our new way
Kodak File 2003, II
We went to bed
And in the morning
I saw your skin
For the first time
And in the morning
You kissed me
For the first time
Because the sun rose
You kissed me
My grown nails still dig
Because the sun rose
Above your knuckles
My grown nails still dig
I don’t remember our names
Above your knuckles
But it’s Sunday
I don’t remember our names
And it’s reaching record warmths
But it’s Sunday
Out there
But it’s Sunday
Because the sun rose
And in the morning
We went to bed
Rachel Baker Lugo, class of 2025, is an English major and Business & Technical Writing minor, from Park Ridge, New Jersey, and mostly Paraguayan. She’s been fond of writing for as long as she can remember and hopes that whoever is reading this will stick around for her journey!
Rachel wrote these poems in her Spring 2023 poetry course taught by Professor Fuhrman. Fuhrman selected the poems for inclusion in WHR.