Dream for her

poetry by Mariel Fechik

Dream for her

In this one, we are as we were. Buoyant, bright, without all this weight.

A balloon rotating on the head of a pin. We are aloft, riding the small

backs of starlings, the sun a milky fruit in the sky. When we land, it is

without impact, stone softening to meet our feet. We part with feathers

clinging to our legs, orange skimming the length of our bodies. At the

end, we are alone.

You begin the task

poetry by Mariel Fechik

You begin the task

of noticing things. How the sun

glints off your bracelet, its cold

 

glitter. The heat of late summer

rising from the lake, the cool

 

press of skin against glass. How

the emptiness pools in the base of

 

your belly, still and subterranean.

A low light. The flattened disks

 

of pain, as though coins were

dropped through you. Their

 

turning at night. How, in your

sleep, you seem to miss something.

 

An absence, a presence. You don’t

notice the color of dawn.

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Mariel Fechik

Mariel Fechik lives in Chicago, IL and works in a library. She sings for the band Fay Ray and writes music reviews for Atwood Magazine and Third Coast Review. Her work has been nominated for Best of the Net and Bettering American Poetry, and has appeared or is forthcoming in Hobart, Tinderbox Poetry Journal, Cream City Review, Yes Poetry, and others. She is the author of the micro-chapbook An Encyclopedia of Everything We've Touched (Ghost City Press, 2018) and Millicent (Ghost City Press, forthcoming).