by Florence Helbing
Green
glass of the wine bottle,
empty
because
it was a “good night.”
Relic
or
artifact, evidence
of
your tenure here.
It
was good wine, too.
At
the time, you told me
it
would be a nice touch
in
the life we were going
to
have: sophisticated and
well-adjusted,
sipping wine
on
a balcony. Each still
handling
the other
with
care.
Outline
of your absence
no
longer so conspicuous.
That’s
okay. There is a place in me still
for
those people, drunk
and
shiny with happiness, who saw
in
the pink sliver of dawn
a
future, and believed it was theirs.
Florence
Helbing is currently in her last year as an undergraduate at
Dickinson College pursuing a BA in Russian and Spanish Language &
Literature. When not at school, she lives in Chicago and works as an
assistant in a sculptor's studio. Soon, she will be moving to Moscow.
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