Today I passed by you in the park
and you had your arms crossed
like you had won some childhood fight
with yesterday.
And as I passed you by
we nodded, as if acknowledging some
unspoken pact of hearts now mended.
Some unspoken acknowledgement
of how on fire we use to be.
How bright
and fleeting.
We were passing stars at one point,
with eyes clear with an in between
of ache and healing.
Minds on fire for some future we couldn’t quite see yet,
fluttering towards brilliant infinities,
like moths through rain,
and when I passed you in the park
there we were,
seated in our separate some day.
This morning I awoke,
lazy eyed and unable to eat,
as if my sole purpose in life lived between my hips.
But as our eyes glazed across each other,
my stomach curled,
and I knew I was not as old as I thought I was.
Still my body yearned for the version of us we both knew,
still I hoped for some ancient gods to find me,
still there were eyes drawn on my back to warn the world,
still my breath stayed straying.
As I passed you by
there were spaces for air
and moments to breath,
but the rain drops trickled off
like it was in my nature to let them roll away.
Like it was meant to be,
that we were once something so big.
So bright
And fleeting.
Every heart we felt beating between
clouded walls and burning circles;
witches and saints worshiping dysfunctional gods,
all in between our six legs.
Today I passed you in the park
I came running back to the sisters in my stomach
and the lungs on my sleeves while
flying through summer nights.
California born
and bodies broken.
We were passing stars at one point,
with eyes clear with an in between
of ache and healing.
Author Bio:
Valerie started writing seriously after her father gave her a copy of Fahrenheit 451. She figured it was as good a time as any to start fighting the patriarchy. She has since been published in Lone Cypress Review, Red Cedar Review, Pif Magazine and Scheherazade, among others. She most recently curated a poetry exhibit highlighting National Poetry Awareness Month at her university. Valerie lives in Monterey, California and enjoys drinking stale coffee, marathon viewing The West Wing, and writing…always writing.
and you had your arms crossed
like you had won some childhood fight
with yesterday.
And as I passed you by
we nodded, as if acknowledging some
unspoken pact of hearts now mended.
Some unspoken acknowledgement
of how on fire we use to be.
How bright
and fleeting.
We were passing stars at one point,
with eyes clear with an in between
of ache and healing.
Minds on fire for some future we couldn’t quite see yet,
fluttering towards brilliant infinities,
like moths through rain,
and when I passed you in the park
there we were,
seated in our separate some day.
This morning I awoke,
lazy eyed and unable to eat,
as if my sole purpose in life lived between my hips.
But as our eyes glazed across each other,
my stomach curled,
and I knew I was not as old as I thought I was.
Still my body yearned for the version of us we both knew,
still I hoped for some ancient gods to find me,
still there were eyes drawn on my back to warn the world,
still my breath stayed straying.
As I passed you by
there were spaces for air
and moments to breath,
but the rain drops trickled off
like it was in my nature to let them roll away.
Like it was meant to be,
that we were once something so big.
So bright
And fleeting.
Every heart we felt beating between
clouded walls and burning circles;
witches and saints worshiping dysfunctional gods,
all in between our six legs.
Today I passed you in the park
I came running back to the sisters in my stomach
and the lungs on my sleeves while
flying through summer nights.
California born
and bodies broken.
We were passing stars at one point,
with eyes clear with an in between
of ache and healing.
Author Bio:
Valerie started writing seriously after her father gave her a copy of Fahrenheit 451. She figured it was as good a time as any to start fighting the patriarchy. She has since been published in Lone Cypress Review, Red Cedar Review, Pif Magazine and Scheherazade, among others. She most recently curated a poetry exhibit highlighting National Poetry Awareness Month at her university. Valerie lives in Monterey, California and enjoys drinking stale coffee, marathon viewing The West Wing, and writing…always writing.
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