WHEN SHE SUDDENLY DIED

 

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Cherry blossom,

Apple blossom, 

cold wind. Hyacinth

wet air. Blinking neon sign

above the un-shy, sunlit 

bird gossip, above the blare 

of sirens, of horns. 

Pinked blooms

swaying, intimate, close.

Shiver, my skin

goose bumped, exposed

shins & neck. 

In the sliver of April

where we stand 

outside your apartment

there is so much 

to apologize for,

to keep track of,

to thank. Mouth undone,

my sorrow & sadness, sharp.

I ache to say 

something

& there is nothing 

to say. I walk beside you 

along Fulton St. 

itching with the need 

to speak, anything true 

or unimportant. 

We walk quietly together. 

I hold your warm hand. 

We, alive right now.

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BIO: 

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Aiyana Masla is author of the chapbook Stone Fruit (Bottlecap Press). Her upcoming poetry debut The Underdream will be released in 2025 with Cornerstone Press. Born in August, Aiyana loves to sing, to dance and to garden. Her poems and art have been featured in the West Trestle Review, Thimble Literary Magazine, Vagabond City Poetry, Rogue Agent Journal, and Willows Wept Review, among other collections both in print and online. She is a queer, interdisciplinary artist and educator. For more of her work: www.AiyanaMasla.com