Issue
 #26 

April
2013


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a poem by Ally Malinenko

Simply, Yes

The summer that I was ten,
the backdoor slammed shut,
like a crack of thunder
two maybe three lakes away,
a warning as
we raced up the lawn.
The fireflies zipped and scattered.

We were ten. There was nothing but wide open spaces.

The summer that I was sixteen
the leather of his car seat
the sound of the tape deck
rewinding,
mouth to mouth, fingers bending back,
the tug of clothes and ribbon.

We were sixteen. There was nothing but wide open spaces.

The summer that I was twenty-one
was the twist of caps, the line and metaphor
the clink of bottles on a balcony
in a city with a nighttime sky lit
pink and translucent
Your hands on my hips, strong,
a newly lit smoke between my lips.

We were twenty-one. There was nothing but wide open spaces.

I was struck last night by Time,
it tunneled through my room
while I was sleeping.
It changed me.
The way it moved I was able
to be there and here,
to feel the grass,
the leather
the bottle
all at once
to know this:
the passage of time,
coursing through my blood,
it is the only god.

It is the only kingdom. There is nothing but wide open spaces.

To see simply,
my own existence,
to say, simply: Yes
And then: Now.

© by Ally Malinenko
 
Gutter Eloquence Magazine ~ Issue #26 ~ April 2013    return to top