I want to say things.
Consonants strung together
like bohemian crystals
vowels drowning in Becherovka
(tongued from veiled sounds
their bittersweet angles pointing
sharp into my ears)
I want to say things;
but there is no one to listen.
I won’t know yet I
will trace the promise of California (of you)
into my lips as I make my way back
to Brooklyn where I will
begin remembering us
sharing the end of July sharing
what could have been authentic our fingers inter-
while we watched the sun go down
and still had hours.
Alyssa Yankwitt received an MFA from The City College of New York, where she also teaches writing and literature. She is a poetry mentor for Poetry Outreach and ran a Creative Writing group for senior citizens in Park Slope, Brooklyn for four years. Most recently, her poems have appeared in Poetry In Performance and on Eightmillionstories.com. Alyssa has an incurable case of wanderlust, loves drinking whiskey, and hates writing about herself in the third person.