Acrostics in which neither of us say the word loneliness

Acrostics in which neither of us say the word loneliness

Acrostics in which neither of us say the word loneliness 1920 1080 Divya Iyer


paws up & fingers down, my boy’s here to catch the first bit of snow in his mouth.
origami sunsets fold into quarters. i watch his hands and i think i would like to hold them,
smile into his palm and hum with melancholy,
scream a secret like a prayer. say that i’m yours and you’re mine. tell me this is
everything and nothing – one dream, one kiss, one matchstick and one mistake.
september 2013 drives past me in a dirty pick-up truck and i am so lonely, yet
somewhere down south i have this memory of you and a girl called crysmalida.
i imagine her to be everything i am not. summer fling, five-second rule, forgettable.
oblivious to what i am to you, what you are to me. everything and
nothing: we made a blood pact in fifth grade & you are in my veins, still.


disco lights & classical music echo in this garden of hushed noises.
universes away, i think that blue and pink
aren’t perceived as different, but as two shades of the same colour.
love and loneliness burn in my mouth like the vodka i refused to drink. i see the world
in black and white. tell them i’m a girl because that’s the easiest thing to say.
television static buzzes grey and i think of your eyes in this dim light.
yolk spills from the table, and the boy i see in the mirror is a stranger.


red like crimson like scarlet like rubies like your hands and your
earrings your lipstick and also the dream at the base of your neck,
coagulating.      i know fancy words too, richard.
let’s update the scoreboard, put my name on top & let me
ascend with a toothpick sticking out of my mouth. this is summertime, this is
madness, a museum, the murder scene, your masterpiece.
a boy who embodies the liquid of dusk stands before me like mercury;
thermometer and glass bound. did you think of freddie? most people do.
i don’t know where this is headed, or what any of this means.
on the plus side, there’s something new for me to learn now. i’ll take it.
never look a gift horse in the mouth, they say. i’ll leave the horse at the door, then?

Header photograph © Marybeth Cohowicz DeYoung.

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  • list of published pieces! – blackbirds in my lungs. 08/08/2019 at 3:48 pm

    […] “Acrostics in which neither of us say the word loneliness,” Barren Magazine, Issue 6. Read here […]

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