Day Eighty-Four

by Sara Ansary

there was a frequency in the air that sizzled the way telephone wires do
when i picked up the electric buzz your body generated next to mine.

swam in it for a while; curiously mistook the hub of electrolytes
dancing ionized glory on the surface of your skin for something far less
superior, or more.

and i swear, i swear our continuance shifted. i swear that the stillness of
wavelengths radiating from the base of your throat rendered itself
the course of grace. dawn frowned upon day like it wasn’t supposed to be there
just yet. night crawled under the covers of starlit gaze. and all the while,

you just cracked and popped in time-strewn intervals dimly, vaguely
here and there,
here and there.

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My name is Sara. I’m 20 years old, live in Vancouver, British Columbia and am a Canadian-born Afghan. I do not know when I discovered my passion for poetry, but needless to say writing has now centred itself around every aspect of my life. One day, I am going to shoot for a Nobel Prize in Literature, and that’s my biggest dream.