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.