Goodbye is a Contraction of God Be With You
You spread yourself in the shape of a crucifix on the floor
of the school chapel after your mother died.
You swore you would never leave a loved one
without saying goodbye, again.
Your mother coated her prayers in sugar,
preserving them like a box of crystallized fruits.
But the fruits still bruised as the crystals were never pure,
and worms inhabited the box.
It took your mother’s death
for your family to speak the real meaning of goodbye,
and to gather how she saw Him in heartfelt farewells
more than in the faces of the regulars at church.
After her death,
you understood why she ended her prayers with goodbye
and never with Amen.
Goodbye is a contraction of God Be With You
and she coated your family with sugar, every night
before she went to sleep.
But nobody ever took the time
to believe in anything beyond them.
And you shrugged the sugar off,
and let the worms inhabit your sheets.
By Alessia Di Cesare
Alessia Di Cesare is a self-proclaimed poet based in Canada, and an undergraduate student studying English Literature at the University of Ottawa. In 2014, she received a Silver Key for her poetry submission in the Scholastic’s Art & Writing Awards, as well as an Honorable Mention in the OECTA Young Author’s Awards. This year, she has been published in the literary magazine, The Ottawa Arts Review, as well as in the first volume of the “Prose.” Anthologies, and has placed 2nd in the English faculty’s poetry contest at the university she attends. More of her poetry can be found on her personal blog, http://www.featherumbrellas.tumblr.com