H.E.A.V.E.N.

by Cara Hall

My brother used to tell me

about the flesh of an apple.

Bite off a chunk

and leave me with the core.

He taught me to drive

a stick shift,

although we know hiking

is easier,

gets better mileage.

So we scale mountainsides,

his long hand reaching out,

lifting me to a

Rocky Mountain pedestal.

Closer to me now closer more than ever

because Kevin

rhymes with Heaven.

So I said,

“I want to marry someone like you, Kevin.”

Yeah, I do.