imagine, then imagine not needing to

imagine

isn't it so easy to imagine?
feel the night's breath waft life into a book
a hushed melody crumbles
erodes at the nightless stars
as it puffs like creme brulee

coronavirus

COVID-19, with a little over 19
months until I'm gone
with the wind, with life
with heaven's plan and hell's pain
graduated from a childhood that is just short
a few years, stolen under spring's simmer

and mestasized into summer's sonder
as the AC freeze dries my sullen smile
i have often wondered if lying face up
on the street hollering as it burns outside my window
belly up, bottom's up
would free me

do you think death's champagne would taste like
rain and concrete humidity
as it rolls sticky memories of sunken lemonade
stands on your tongue 
radio songs belted on the highway
trails off into mournful tears

and like the songs, i too have changed 
too much, too little, just right
as i wander with goldilocks and the bears
regressing into a 9 years old's fright
the mirror on the wall doesn't lie
scraping chalkboard nails,
add 1 tally to the right of all the wrinkles
every the moon can't press from my brow
the memory of the sirens that scream "COVID-19"

corona virus

it puffs like blowfish that pierces my skin
salt erodes at normality, whittles down sanity
the melody crashes at the undeniable crescendo
a book knocked over the bed, forgotten
wasn't it so easy to imagine?

when it wasn't my last lifeline, 
when it could simply be, not had to be

excitement depressed, repressed in my own head

imagine, not having to

imagine

 

amaryllis

CA

YWP Alumni

More by amaryllis

  • Forgotten altars

    You blink and look and stare
    and stare

    As if trying to find the snag in the dream
    the catch in the sweater
    the cards hidden up someone's sleeves

    The meaning of this miracle that tapped you on the elbow
  • You, Tree

    As I sit on this stump and read
    from these pages of your cousin's pulped flesh,
    I burst with the excitement of next year seeing you draped in color,

    You. master of graceful loss.

    You, vessels of wasted breaths,
  • spiraling

    Spiraling odes of love and loss,
    lost pages strewn on the desk and the floor and the eyes and the sky and my limbs,
    each one with a piece of myself I do not want to see anymore.

    what have I created?