Fugue
by Isabelle Cachia-Riedl
to those with
crystalline eyes and bloodshot eyes
who drink their way down or else
sink their way down
to my friends who fall from heights
and are found later,
to you who have not been found
or have been found far too late
everyone is very, very sorry
not sorry enough it didn't happen in the first place
not sorry enough it won't happen again
you see we are all so tired
to my friend who won't come home,
the one with polka dot arms
who liked her new sweatshirt
last time I saw you.
who wanted it all to be over
and tried for it all to be over
in various ways
this city is a time container
on that side of town it is always day
and on this side of town
she drinks from the spigot in our backyard
in the everlasting night