I Remember the Night
I remember the night
you said love has nothing
to fear, so I pulled out
all my canine teeth,
put them in a box marked
“save me,” let you
always take me home
without a single snarl.
I remember the night
you said the people
with the biggest headstones
at the cemetery had something
to prove, so bury me
in an unmarked grave
so you never worry
about how I’m feeling
down there. Let me melt
into the same earth
that gave me you.
This may not make sense
tomorrow, so if
tomorrow ever feels
like getting here too early,
take its keys away,
tell it danger
doesn’t always come in red,
tell it we can do this on our own
tonight.
By Darcy Vines
Biography:
Darcy Vines is a 20 year old free verse poet and freelance journalist who has been writing since the early days of her teenage angst. While occasionally covering feminist film festivals and office furniture conventions, she prefers to write about falling in and out of love too easily, gender and sexuality, and her dog named Huckleberry Finn. She cites Kurt Vonnegut, Betty Smith, Richard Siken, and Andrea Gibson as the loves of her literary life and her biggest inspirations. In her free time, she is a senior in the Insignis Honors Program at Aquinas College and studies English, journalism, and writing, all while staring down the barrel of law school applications. She is a staff writer for her college’s newspaper The Saint, and has been published in the first volume of Literary Sexts as well as the 26th and 27th editions of The Sampler. In 2014 and 2015, she was a top ten finalist from Aquinas College in the Academy of American Poets Student Poetry Prize. Someday, she hopes to write something that makes sense. Until then, you can find her anywhere you can also find a good dirty chai.