In my dream, I’m back in our place / some bitch is sleeping on my side / of the bed / has killed all my plants / replaced all my art / with HomeGoods prints / and porcelain nick-nacks / everything left of mine / has been piled on the dining table / like an estate sale / touched by people I’ll never know / or meet / your mother drops by / with flowers for my birthday / your sister and her best friend toast me / with blackberry shrubs / as you sleepwalk the kitchen / dirtying every glass and spoon
suddenly, night / the mystery woman with a fondness / for decorative cats and teal has gone / we’re on the landing / faces lit / from the kitchen light / that used to backdrop our late-nights / and drunken binges of taco bell / and white castle / I cup your cheek / unflinching / I’m in a glittering dress / and your favorite red lipstick / telling you I have to go / someone is waiting for me / you hang your head /and I stop myself from begging you / to ask me to stay / to tell me you want me / here
even the dream / version of you won’t / can’t say those words.
even / the dream version of me can’t / won’t / stop waiting for them.
Lora Robinson (she/they) is a poet and essayist from the East Coast. She is a poetry reader for Cobra Milk, an alumnus of Art Farm Nebraska, and was featured in The Inner Loop’s Author’s Corner. Her work has appeared in Concision, The Meadow, The Shore, The West Review, Hooligan Magazine, and San Pedro River Review, among others. Her debut collection, An Essential Melancholy, is available now through akinoga press. Connect with her on Instagram @theblondeprive.
Image: “Hydrangeas in November” by Laura Knowlton
Pine Hills Review 