by Kyrah Gomes
after helga floros
i want to ask you what devotion feels like. an altared sacrifice or a hand-peeled orange. something to be taken. does the enormity of desire consume you? it is cliche to concern myself with hunger but i need to know if yours has teeth, too. i want to ask you about the best antonym for ruined. i think it can be a noun, or a way of living. i want to ask if my heart looks like a dilapidated building. here, let me show you. maybe with a fresh coat of paint i can be made pristine. perhaps a daffodil yellow, or sunset pink. the last time i glowed, i was an embryo in a sea of sepia contrast. i want to ask if you’ve ever been a split tire with silence hissing out. which is a fancy way to say irretrievable. before you were even a breath, did your mother slog through snow to the bus stop? before angel numbers, did you count every step in a superstitious pulse?
i know i did. i do. you’re supposed to fall in love but one day, i flew. i would be half-lying if i said there wasn’t a hollowness where your (hands / teeth / ) once were. this was meant to be
a year of making space, a spring cleaning of sorts. and so, the cavern deepens. i want to ask you
if repressed memories can form diamonds. if this is the right kind of pressure. if my use of force is warranted. if my dawn-kissed rituals are futile. i know there is darkness, but is there a way
of dancing in it? if i offer myself to you, will you show me the steps?
kyrah gomes (she/her) is a multidimensional artist and fresh fruit aficionado from nyc, currently in tampa, fl. she writes to create something tangible and is as much of a poet as any other human being. her poems have appeared in Thread Magazine, VIBE, The B’K, LEVITATE, Journal of Erato, and other publications. you can send her comments, hate mail, or your favorite playlists on instagram @kyrah.isabel, twitter @reveri3s, or via her website kyrahgomes.square.site.
Emerge Literary Journal 