Still Mine

Settled under your arm, summer’s
glittering eye, and her songs— sirens,
laughter, shrieks, and silence.

I found myself a home.

No, not like what Amber finds
in Brown, or the Sun in the Sea—
I did not lose myself in you, or
to the City’s spells.

More like when a wrinkle finds a smile,
makes a valley,
and calls it home.

Don’t ask me when.
Which is to say time
is always a rope, ledge, or arrow
of which I am at the end of.

Just brace with me
in this gargoyles shadow.

As the lamppost strikes
unforgiving glows
against The golden
green leaves tucked
into the nighting blue.

Because
what’s sin for me,
isn’t sin for you.

By Desiree Nestor

Biography:

Desiree Nestor currently lives in her hometown of Brooklyn, New York, and currently works as a literacy/writing tutor with middle school and high school students. She loves soccer, listening to music, and learning French.