by Justin L., 17
Through the blotted calligraphy I can see
The moments before her leave: potential words
Having risen after she switched pen colors.
To me, she writes
A note in her usual italic san serif—
Do not forget to water the plants, thank you.
Left beside the two pots overgrown with leaves.
I open the faucet, gray water trickling down my arms
Gray that fades into prismatic lines,
Like the lines that separate hue from hue in
Stained glass windows
I hear an endless drip, and I feel all is well.
My mother will be home soon
To unsettle the dull gray surface,
To color the lines and walls and windows—
To take care of everything.
I watch as the drops travel down the drain,
A maelstrom of darkness engulfing the rainbow.
I remember that I hadn’t seen her come home for days.
And I go to water the plants myself.
Las Vegas, Nevada