CCW Finalist, Poetry

The Story by Melissa Reeser


          

It was about love. It’s still reality even if you’re fast asleep. It never ends, just rolls on and on like waves to shore. We sit there on the sand, hearts pounding, the sunset a painting or a dream. Is there a difference? We float. I can’t bear it. I want your tongue to be a rock. Then I’m on the floor, a paper bag, once soaked to softness with rain. You stood in the doorway dripping. It’s gone. The bag empty, light floods the room. Outside green leaves turn to gold. When I lift the curtain, they fall in one sheet, like snow shaken from a roof. Sunrise through another window, pink icicles hanging from eaves. Your body, a zipper, the pillow cool and skin hot. It holds a hundred mornings, and none. New jut of bone and belly, you in my hands, luck. Is there an Every, or just this? I (can’t) remember. I love you. Once upon a time

Melissa Reeser