Summer Fragmented

The July you went away to camp for the last time / I kept breathing exhaust / Russian sage / grease hazing the air / you weren’t allowed your phone / & my lungs grew infected with longing / with summer and its selfishness / with murky August saran-wrapping my skin / all I wanted was to sink into the outline you’d left behind / one night at 3 AM I ordered a bottle of your favorite perfume / I may  have tasted it / time warps distance / everything longer when it’s held slanted / & even my body is forgetting you / my voice husks from not speaking / my knees calcify from pointless praying / the only part of my hair that was alive when you were is growing out now / dry / splitting

Amy DeBellis is a writer from New York. Her debut novel is forthcoming from CLASH Books (2024). Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in publications including The Shore, Pithead Chapel, Maudlin House, Luna Luna Magazine, and Anti-Heroin Chic.

A Song for Amy