waves

illustration by 

@rachalpours

by Erin Gallagher

february 2021

I wrote you a long long story

in streamlined pieces, 

bullet points in a white and 

yellow note on a glowing screen. 

 

Windows show scenes passing 

by in fragments jagged, 

metal clanging,

a burst of inspiration rolls 

slowly towards my feet 

and edges slower still 

around my ankles 

and up to my knees, 

a soft brush along my thigh, 

tips of fingers wrap a tendril,

coconut oil scrunched, air-dried

curl, falls into my face

as I chase after an image but it slips.

 

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AEnB2UqKb36u3oj6rppTWyK51eAMmA4axjBjXnut

Visions adjust in flashes, depart

fluorescent light to embrace 

an early dark evening,

I button back up-

Reminiscence can float a car, six

inches of standing water, 

feet still body sways, authority fills 

empty space with sound, a woman’s voice, 

strong clear pronouncements

tell me where I am in a moment but I would

like more clarity- can she tell me where I’ll be 

in a year? Can she tell me where to go now and 

what to do and how the story ends?

 

Visions adjust in flashes, depart

fluorescent light to embrace 

an early dark evening,

I button back up-

My roommate asked if my eyes 

are so big because the apartment is always dim, 

an adaptation.

My best friend in first grade told me 

that if I ate enough carrots 

my hair would be straight,

still ringlets spring out 

and grow long down my back,

but I can see clearly in the dark 

from the vitamin A. Misguided,

hiding, floating in plain sight, 

I move on

Erin Gallagher is a writer in New York City. Her work has been published in Maryland Bards Poetry Review, X-R-A-Y Literary Magazine, and No Contact Mag. You can find her on Instagram as @erinagall. 

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