You named me in a language I can't speak

Issue no. 2: matters of the heart
poem - kathryn monaco


We sit
You lean back,
your hands folded
your eyes closed in slow sadness
while I munch on sliced apples
pushing my toes against the curved leg of the table.

We sit,
you and I
Surrounded by sounds of slighted lovers
yelling curses on the television
the windows opened wide
letting in hot, sticky air
mixed with the smell of fish frying in garlic

You cry every time we leave
Always kissing my cheek wetly while
I squirm, not knowing what to say
only thinking of the movies
I would watch on the plane

When I learned your heart no longer beat,
I sat on the steps outside the office
And I touched my toes to the marble floor.
I sat and leaned my head on the railing
And I closed my eyes.