White dwarves and red giants,
Headlights and taillights on a rainslicked road,
two streetlights chatter with one another,
in thready bits of broken morse code,
I was there,
I was there,
and soon,
I will be here,
but for now,
I'm on my way,
neither place is near.
__
There's a song dripping from the radio,
one I've never heard before,
lyrically, it's cryptic,
but there's something at the core,
in the way your hands remember,
when your mind suddenly forgets,
like the songs you couldn't name,
on carefully curated cassettes,
I was there,
I was there,
maybe certain parts remain,
they go on long drives,
they make mixtapes,
they get wistful in the rain.
About the Creator
Dee Yazak
A technical and science writer by trade that dabbles in poetry (and occasionally fiction) for fun. Her poetry focuses on themes of aimlessness, nostalgia, and the loose, delicate threads of human connection.
Off the Book
It ended like every other stupid idea. Badly, and alone. I’m researching digital confession ethics, he said. A tech ethicist. He gestured at floating data I couldn’t see then pulled out a physical notebook. Actual paper, fountain pen. He held it up like he was showing me scripture.
By Nicky Franklyabout 3 hours ago in Fiction
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