Vassar Student Review

Vassar Student Review

Featured Author

intimates

there’s this one memory i have. from april.

or was it march? it was in the fog of empty buildings,

boxes on screens, texts to high school friends,

smiles below fabric, and being by myself.

that night, i wasn’t alone though. it was 2 am.

they drank from my water bottle, framed

by the wintery mix on the grass and the light

that bounced from it into my second floor room.

we left the blinds open. that’s how we liked to do it.

in the dark, but with the blinds open, so it felt cozy.

they asked for a pair of my boxers. the kind i didn’t like

to wear anymore because they made me feel too full of T,

but when they wore them, it made me reconsider that.

we both used separate bathrooms, opposite ends

of the hall before our lips met back up in the middle.

i showed them my new sweater. they liked it, in the dark.

and we decided to smoke. we walked out into the cold like that.

them in my clothes. me wishing i was in theirs.

we stood there, beside trash and empty cars, darkened

windows full of sleeping others. or people just like us.

we passed a kiss between each other, sending its chemtrails

up into the sky. and there, against the brick and bags

and blackened night, they took a picture of us.

the only of us. shadows eternalized upon a wall eternalized in a phone.

they woke me up the next morning, the wintery mix

fogged over, 6 am grabbing hold of them

as they moved out of my arms for the last true time.

it was real. excuses, anxiety, self-hatred. and i never saw

the photo again. perhaps it’s gone.

i hope it isn’t.

Related Submissions

css.php

stay in the loop