The Deadliest of Winters (Better Luck Next Time)

December 15, 2023

I walked along the shore of our hidden beach.

Snow dotted the never-ending gray sky,

Your very own constellation.

 

Low-hanging clouds 

Covered every possible surface,

As if they could never get enough.

 

(Remember when we were like that?)

 

The waves were frozen in their routine, 

Forming impossible shapes.

I wished you were there to see it.

 

I could almost picture you, mouth open, trying to catch each snowflake on your tongue,

Attempting to taste each icy ridge,

Feeling the weight of it in your mouth, your hair, your hands.

 

I could see you counting each ripple in the frozen waves.

Which number would you inevitably give up on?

(100? 200?)

I tried not to admit that I missed you.

 

But the overcast sky pried it from my lips,

The innumerable grains of sand 

Were my only witnesses.

 

Could you hear me from way up there?

Did the snowfall muffle my words?

I can try again when the Sun returns,

But I don’t want anyone else to hear.

 

Vanessa Perez has loved writing ever since she was a little girl. Words have always fascinated her, and now she studies English at California State University, Fullerton. While she typically seeks solace in poetry, she has also started experimenting with short fiction and essays. She is always looking for new ways to connect with others through her writing.

 

 

Featured Image by Chandler Cruttenden.

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