lana.

by Reilly F. Dennedy

blue eyes

glitter so often

people forget to notice

she never saw

the scars like gentle ripples in a lake

how could you let this happen?

heart signs through spotlights

from the tech booth

store bought roses

she knows i don’t need

after show

costumes off

singing in underwear

climbing onto chair towers

damp washcloths cross her cheeks

lips curl upwards

strong arms pull me closer

& closer

until we are tangled:

fingers intertwined

nails pressed in skin

thigh between thigh

finally together

the together.

blond curls combed with shaking fingers

smiles up from my lap

black high tops up on the Caltrain windows

running through the city

street art in allys between coffee shops

feet dangling five stories up

scoldings from museum guards

sharp breaths between kisses

Leviticus 18

Romans 1

Mark 10

grant me a life sentence

good morning

every morning

good night

every night

never ready for the distance

the distance.

“here, safe”

at every flight connection

5,894 miles

apart

missing

the glass stained sunshine spread through her hair

22 o’clock phone calls

2 hours 34 minutes 6 seconds

away

from the silence

the silence.

About the Author

Reilly Finn Dennedy is recent high school graduate located in the San Francisco Bay Area. She is excited to attend Mount Holyoke College in Massachusetts this fall. In her free time, you can find Reilly exploring state parks, spending time at the farmers market, and trying new vegan restaurants. You can follow her environmentalism blog on Instagram @environmentalismforthebusy.