by Erica Milosh
I had been dead for a year.
Everyone stopped looking for me.
All I had left- four walls and darkness.
I chose to regain consciousness.
This captive life became a vortex of desolation.
All that wasted time.
A nearby skeleton spoke –
You cannot leave, you are bound by promises.
But I wasn’t bound by mistakes.
Eventually, promises and mistakes mean the same.
I left uninterrupted,
My body followed close behind.
Night grew warmer as it wore on.
Crickets creaked their credo.
Smoke sailed southward into summer,
As the fire reluctantly waned.
Her light blue eyes- electric ice,
Mirrored the moon’s mystery.
Bats blew by over our heads.
We dreamed on dewy grass.
Her sunburned skin lingered over me,
Cheshire Cat smile.
Before long, sunrise snuck in,
We fled the light like possums.
Erica Milosh is a senior English major at Nichols College and writer of poetry and fiction.