Mag Gabbert
Is Love Holographic

Remember that trick where there’s a dove inside a cage, then 

somehow the dove remains after a magician takes it away? 


Every letter I place here absorbs sky into the blank page— 


Am I trying to stare straight at the sun? 


Can a sheet of just paper still keep me warm? 


What’s not a mirage, but like one? Lines too long to even look 



Moon roofs, glass-bottom boats, mirrored windows, ice floes 

sculpted into swans? 


Why does everyone expect to find “you” in this poem? 


Why do I keep writing “you” texts? (Where do I begin?) 


Would I rather dive into a pool or the ocean? 


Is every sentence that lies a horizon? Is every word polished 

enough to seem clear yet—or reflective? Who cares? This is 


not a rhetorical question. What besides light is immersive? 


What besides language takes risks? 

Found In Volume 51, No. 04
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  • Mag Gabbert
Mag Gabbert
About the Author

Mag Gabbert holds a PhD in creative writing from Texas Tech University and an MFA from The University of California at Riverside. She is the author of Sex Depression Animals (Mad Creek Books, 2023).