• Adam D. Weeks

Oh body, as I leave this


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.