and i thought of things inside a cutlery drawer - 2019 Fall Creatives Contest Winner
i drove home last night in my grandpa’s jeep
the taste of you still lingering on the inside of my bottom lip
and i thought of things left untouched
like a stone unturned, perpetually sinking into the earth
or
like us
something heavenly and ephemeral,
something only existing in whispers into the bowels of the night
or in-between sheets
or inside a drawer of cutlery
or in the swan constellation diving into the milky way
like us
something unearthly and lamentably mortal,
a bead of jack at the bottom of the liquor-filled water bottle,
that your dad found under your pillow.
i thought of things unexplained
like last night,
at the very moment your finger led my eyes to aldebaran
(in the taurus constellation)
there appeared a shooting star, and it didn’t feel like
i was living life
it felt like life was happening
to me.
i thought of things left over
like smoked keef
or coffee grounds
and i thought of
your hand which was holding only my pinky and ring finger
because you said they were your favorite and i said
ok.
i thought of things underneath fingernails
and your fingernails in my back
and my back up against an abandoned bulldozer in the lot behind your summer house
and your summer house in the winter
and how this winter, pieces of my heart fell from the sky like snow
and how my broken heart was filled with sticky blood
and empty promises
when i knew that
probably
nothing would ever be the same.
-gm
Grace Miskovsky is a San Francisco Bay Area based writer. She is a high school student in Marin County, CA and is an artist of many mediums.
