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Literature Text
My father's hair is gray now.
I'm not sure if it was the elevator
or that realization that caused
the lurch in my belly.
There's a little plastic container
on the bathroom counter, housing
blue, yellow, beige pills, designed
to slow the body's inevitable breakdown.
There are lines around my father's eyes now -
I feel his loneliness echoed in my chest,
in the mirror as I prepare for bed.
A blurry, half-remembered moment,
smudged with time, of sitting on his strong
shoulders, laughing in the sun,
so sure that he would always be able
to hold me up to touch the sky.
We live this half-baked life now,
circling each other, moments intersecting,
brief, our real lives hours away, with our
other families, and his silver hair,
little pills, sad eyes make me terrified
that we missed our chance, started
too late, and I will never be
daddy's little girl again.
I'm not sure if it was the elevator
or that realization that caused
the lurch in my belly.
There's a little plastic container
on the bathroom counter, housing
blue, yellow, beige pills, designed
to slow the body's inevitable breakdown.
There are lines around my father's eyes now -
I feel his loneliness echoed in my chest,
in the mirror as I prepare for bed.
A blurry, half-remembered moment,
smudged with time, of sitting on his strong
shoulders, laughing in the sun,
so sure that he would always be able
to hold me up to touch the sky.
We live this half-baked life now,
circling each other, moments intersecting,
brief, our real lives hours away, with our
other families, and his silver hair,
little pills, sad eyes make me terrified
that we missed our chance, started
too late, and I will never be
daddy's little girl again.
Literature
Zemi
Things having to be returned to their transparency:
i.
/ green mist-earth / knit
atmosphere / fathomless
blue-lavender / lights
spun out from light
ii.
are recalcitrance / and you
are convergence
& - a fingernail of summer
- a melting of rain
- a crown of flowers
- a priest of sunsets
(beautiful? I love you, because. Zemi.
Zemi. are you beautiful because I love
you? Zemi? )
iii.
I imagine this is what it's like to breathe sea foam
over the Cliffs of Moher: hydration. absolution.
Literature
In star-crossed balance
and I will learn
how to sew these skies together
when the constellations
unravel themselves
like a monsoon.
pillars of bones
and the quakes of every heartache
rests in the space
between my lungs
and my ribcage-
a home built to shelter
the song of the ocean
and the sweet silence of clouds
drifting above my irises,
against the downpour of waterforms
colliding in my veins.
[pluma, membrana-
nothing but the softness of dreams
and the heaviness of air]
I am a star-crossed lover;
a body who nurtures the mind
the heart
and the soul-
misers in a variety of matrimony
with this forsaken archipelago
whose plates have long ago been
separated by the
Literature
on being saved
i am sorry you
have never known salvation
from another's touch
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This one is extremely personal, and I have a few concerns with it. It has gone through a few iterations so far, so I thought I would se e what you fine people have to say about it.
Specific questions:
What do you get from this? What do you imagine the situation is?
Is there anything that is jarring, seems out of place, etc?
How is the word choice?
© Jessica McGale
Specific questions:
What do you get from this? What do you imagine the situation is?
Is there anything that is jarring, seems out of place, etc?
How is the word choice?
© Jessica McGale
© 2012 - 2024 beautyinreview
Comments33
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I am crying. My daddy has ALS; I understand this through and through.