Natalie E. Illum

Time, Signature

Our hands are similar in callus and age. 
Your dexterity and my grip. Stronger than most 

artists or wise men. We've held on all these years, pinky
swore and privately entered each other, thumb and forefinger.
Me sliding into your wedding band. You forgetting
how to play guitar, but not piano. So play me.
Whisper my name like the minor chord in a coda,
except I'm not. I am more Boa than Beethoven. 

I clutch you the same way I do a pen; 
how I would hold a masterpiece; deliberately. 
And I wait for you the same way 
the symphony waits for the audible 
gasp before the rush of applause. And we ride 
that cacophony together; 

as lovers have always done. Rubbing one sound
into the other. The force of a violin string 
can break a finger. But the quartet will keep playing. 

What hymn did they play when the Titanic was sinking?
Tomorrow may be what drowns us. I know 
some souls are like icebergs. There are sharks 
swimming in our bodies; always. But 
our hands are the only lifeboat that will save us,
so hold on, tight.

Natalie E. Illum (she/her) is a poet, disability activist, and singer living in Washington, DC. A former Jenny McKean Moore Fellow, she is the recipient of multiple poetry fellowship grants from the DC Commission for the Arts and Humanities, and is a Best of the Next and Pushcart Prize Finalist. She is a 2025 Pride Fellow and Teaching Artist for the Arts Club of Washington. She was also a founding board member of mothertongue, an LGBTQA+ poetry open mic that lasted for 14 years. Illum competed on the National Poetry Slam circuit and was the 2013 Beltway Grand Slam Champion. Her work has been published on NPR’s Snap Judgement, among various other outlets. Illum earned an MFA in creative writing from American University.