STRING OF LIGHTS
Our hands go like this
they go up
I’m so proud of us
all of this us,
and the things that kept falling out,
the sharp hooks
of twisted girls’ mouths
are lights on a string
they’re just lights on a string.
I guess it’s probably spring
but I’d find that out at your house
look at you, with all your time
SEEING THINGS FOR WHAT THEY ARE
On the edge of a bench
the sun mutters a breeze
look at the trees; look at guy in red hat and capris
my body’s a cylinder placed on top of a moving submarine, this you’re better to believe
performative pigeons and their soliloquies
you could have me, here,
in a lot more ways than one
I could find you here,
in the breeze muttered by the sun
—to belong to everything all at once
oh, magic
a girl like symmetry
girl like syrup over ice, licking icing off of me
or
eating something better next to me
at least I’m free,
a crumb of wonder,
check me under,
curl up your tongue at all my leaves my weeds my cracked
crawled
herd of bees—
Dad was this sad too once
I can tell from how he sleeps.
A DANCER & THE SEA
I ask her to make me four, she laughs singing, dancers make one dancers make one
well then I’ll have one
and it’s the one then it’s done
but it’s a beautiful one, this one that’s been done
for me
above
the sea
rocking back and forth,
mist foam breathe
meaning of life is to give it to me
just
once
CONTROL
If you knew what I was trying to say I'd be over at your place
lights on dim, if I could choose
wedding white walls no plastic no paint
in the hall
in the half-way
I'm like a patient
you’re my Medway
Human Death and Decay
just something to ease the pain
parking lots might do the same
THERAPY
Show us the places you let yourself go when you get mean
your hands on your eyes, you might be right,
but show us anyway how thick that part of you bleeds,
creeps in like water faucet tentacles
collecting all of you
tensing your jaw, now, good, open, let it in, breathe
***
Jessica Lovett is a junior at Fordham University studying Comparative Literature and French. Her poetry has been published in ANGLES Literary Magazine, Maximum Tilt Anthology, and Fordham’s Bricolage. When she’s not writing poetry, you can find her writing music, watching movies, and reading. This is her first feature on the Fictional Café.
