the world::the living room
I stare at despair & wonder,
swirls of cobalt & cadmium &
longing / I shiver in the warm afternoon light /
a song plays, cyclic & wanting—
gilded monotony: the world
does not exist outside
this room / my skin fits over my bones & I
am reminded of when I did not wear
pain like a heavy coat—
when days were long & the sun
didn’t set until I was
ready / before rusted joints &
russian roulettes of agony /
stone grates & weathers to sand—
but I shut my eyes & tilt my head
up, face to the ceiling / curled catlike &
basking / ache::pervades this blissful
liminality / I am known::lacking /
here::nowhere / I am boundless—
step
down
from the stratosphere.
my hair brushes kisses on
my cheeks, collarbone blotched blush,
leaves in jars tilt toward the open
window & flutter,
counterfeit cinnamon smoke
wafts & dances,
slow & sultry—
I look back at painted loneliness,
cobalt & cadmium & agitation
fading & flaking off the canvas.
Ella Singer is a junior English (creative writing) major with a museum studies minor at SUNY Geneseo. Her work draws large inspiration from her hometown, Saratoga Springs, though she has yet to write about horses. In her spare time, she enjoys making mix CDs, listening to the Romeo & Juliet (1996) soundtrack, and watching Lady Bird.