1.
Anne betrayed coincidence,
(death exists
for good-hearted individuals)
just kept lusting,
made negative, open
promises quite righteously;
stood tall under Valentine’s watch;
X-factors you’ve zoned.
2.
Anne briefly contemplated
defying existence.
Fear grabbed her inextricably
(just knowing).
Lies made nonsense
of pieces; quantitative reality.
She tried understanding variables:
withering X-chromosomes,
yesterday’s zenith.
3.
Anne believed
catching dreams equaled
forgiveness granted.
Her insecurities
justified kamikaze love missions
no one proposed questioning.
Recently, she told us
various wants:
XXX your zeroes.
Alyssa Yankwitt is a Pushcart-nominated poet as well as a photographer, teacher, bartender, documenter, and earth walker. Her poems, essays, and photographs have previously appeared in Gravel, TL;DR, Blacktop Passages, Alyss, Up the Staircase Quarterly, It’s All About Shoes, Spry Literary Journal, Peacock Journal, After the Pause, Thirteen Myna Birds, and Gargoyle. She teaches in the English Department at the City College of New York and is also a Staff Developer for CCNY’s Poetry Outreach Program. Alyssa has incurable wanderlust, enjoys drinking bourbon, hates writing about herself in third person, and loves a good disaster. You can see more of her work here: https://www.facebook.com/Alyssa-Yankwitt-609514002467835/
