The waves are crashing at our feet and we talk about what it means to be ––
Her mom is resilient,
Taking the world as it comes ––
Counting the stars.
As I lay in his bed, my body naked ––
I think about her.
The nights she stared at stranger’s ceilings, just as all of our sisters.
Counting not the stars but the length of his breath,
Measuring the tone of his moans.
Her love is the waves, the stars ––
His popcorn ceiling.
Her love is the half-yes’s and sleepy confessions,
The lonely walks and the dried tears ––
Awaiting their return.
The dial tone blares overhead,
Are you there?
Burnt sienna trees whispering to me,
What are they saying?
As I walk the leaves crumble, the people murmur.
Do they know I’m here?
Sitting in solitude, staring with somber,
They can’t hear me.
It’s raining orange and red,
Is it time to go home?
The trees breathe and they’re alive,
They’re changing, always changing.
The ringing has stopped and I’m alone,
Solitude, somber, serenity.
Can you hear me?
The birds sit and I watch,
The man on the concrete tells her to repent.
It’s a cycle,
The yelling, the yawning, the yearning.
Interrupted by the bells she stands,
Early like the morning,
The dew and the sun.
Shining light and it’s no longer quiet.
The day has come and I’m running,
Running but silent.
What about now?
It’s dark and the car lights graze the wall.
I sit alone, though I am not,
For the walls have secrets –– They’re watching.
Observing the silence not as ignorance but company.
The man is asleep in his bed,
The air sits as if frozen,
Shocked by a moment –– Silent, somber, serene.
Can you hear me now?
The lights rise and you’re there,
Staring at the crowd, unsure if they’re to make the first move or you.
You step forward,
Your face is golden and your hands clasped.
You hold your instrument and begin to strum,
O how the angels are singing.
How did we get here?
My eyes creak open from the pale yellow sun,
I force them shut.
I need that golden warmth only a few moments longer.
It’s beautiful; I can see, I can feel.
You came to find this, not to leave.
But now it’s cold,
My shivers travel down my body and I collapse.
The cement cradles my cheek as I cry a hefty river,
As big and quick as the once we once before floated.
The lights rise,
You are no longer here.
People – oh no,
Do I dare say,
Excuse me, everything is rather pressing.
Where’s the space? Let alone the time…
A glimmer of solidarity
Is swept with the addition of a
Branded string of letters.
The words – Those words;
Victims of a heart and soul,
Perpetrated by an absence
Then, by a presence; pointed fingers don’t lie.
People – oh no,
Did I dare say
9 January, 2019. Alyssa Jennewine. Lehigh University.