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.
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).