Oh body, as I leave this

July 31, 2020

 

 

theater, I feel you heavy           as the night, fog

folding its hands into thick blankets placed over

the empty street—the cinema              spills across 

the concrete. Popcorn, candy, some hand-me-

 

down script traced and retraced

with trembling fingers. Sex scene, soliloquy,

a sweet memory to take to bed. This is

what we carry with us: the wind        singing

 

the same song of horror, of action, of every

myth we’ve made ourselves. I find my arms

unable to          reach, each body building

off mine like a collection of sectioned

 

             stories reworded. But oh film,

             oh feature, this body is

             a creature and I suppose I’m saying—

             this is where we begin to end.

 

 

 

 

 

Adam D. Weeks is a senior undergraduate student studying creative writing at Salisbury University. He has poetry published or forthcoming in Poet Lore, Slipstream Press, The Shore, Prairie Margins, The Allegheny Review and Broadkill Review.

 

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