Nineteen Months

architecture-2598158_1280

By Amy Brunson

The first night
Pizza on the stairs
Surrounded by
boxes
And the unfamiliar sound
Of being
Alone

The ceiling above the bed
Telling me
This is it.
You are
Here
Now

A place filled with memories
None of them belonging

Nineteen months
Could have had two babies
But instead
Nine lovers
The mother
Three skeletons
Five neighbors
A handful of friends
One ghost.

Now I see
This place held me
Weeping into wine glasses
Dancing in the nude
Laughing on the phone
Fucking on the floor
Mourning the past
Fearing the future and
Thanking the present for itself.

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