The Softs

︎︎︎ Jean Hartig

︎ JULY 13, 2022

Soft mirror. Soft matrix. Soft rule to soft collective. Feel
there just below the throat. Soft principle. Press it.
Falling in soft fire. Soft shot, soft decision just a ways
off. Still your tiny bowl, cream and vague fruit. Soft
kingdom. Soft repair. Soft road reaching out to the future
thinks, beloved. Soft pines. Soft reward. Soft disruption,
take cover in another room. Where you have waited for
your love. Soft deprivation. Soft surfeit, lonesome
without limit. Soft break to soft entry. Soft sugar where
the back of a hand runs across a seam. Soft supreme.
Soft angle. A year then again. Your naïve reflection
forgetting. Soft where are you, have you been, late
afternoon, scathing blue. Soft return toward the endings,
soft reach. The sandal from that summer. Soft channel.
Soft pines. Soft undoing, which you loved most, soft
flame bit in intervals, childish soft encompassing rain.

Jean Hartig
is a writer and editor living and working between coastal Maine and Brooklyn, New York. Her project Woman with Packages can be found at @womanwithpackages. Her website is

Also by Jean: The Pales