Havik: Inside Brilliance

human behavior is that you can’t love until
you can feel the other person. The electricity
has to be there. You grow together, you
grow apart, and you learn the boundaries of
human connections.
So she won’t really know unless she gives
William a shot. She sighs.
She knows we’re all connected in human
relationships, whether we like it or not.
They’re important to us, sustaining our lives.
And, just like the other two relationships
she’s had, Evan thinks no one is exactly who
you thought they were once you get close
to them. You either adjust or you don’t. It’s
both the wonder of life and the gulf between
yourself and another.
Maybe the only connection she wants out
of William is literature.
The air is warmer now, the ocean sparkling
with thousands of diamond reflections.
Feathery cirrus clouds float by in the background.
A horn sounds from the parking lot
down below; Evan sees the distant people
walking the harbor shops, miniature creatures
like in a movie. Further out, seagulls
ride the updrafts above the breakwater.
Stand-up paddlers break the vastness of the
Pacific. Oil derricks and the Channel Islands
dot the horizon. Pelicans fly by in a high V
formation, searching for fish.
Evan is reminded of Icarus, who flew too
close to the sun. She wonders if her wings
could also come unglued.
A different version of the New World
comes to her. I can write my own story, she
thinks, without the triangle, without the
conflicts.
She pulls out his business card and texts
William. “Sorry, I can’t join you for coffee
next week.”
Maybe she does have something to teach
as well.
The wispy, shapeless clouds drift away.
33
Virgin Cocktails
Poetry
Caleb Gonsalves
Roseville, California, USA
I sit watching hopeful high school students
Set up for their homemade remote prom.
Twinkly lights and beautiful white silk
Decorations of choice for their night of
fame.
Ready to vote for their queen and king,
Before they realize how meaningless these
titles are.
I watch making cocktails out of coke and
lemonade
Thinking about one particular girl,
and how I’d like to take her dancing.
I check my read receipts,
Confirming our new normal,
One where we don’t go dancing.
We peaked at fear and self doubt,
Which forced us to dance on our own
At dances that weren’t made for us
Missing out on what could have been,
We ended without beginning
Never knowing the magic of prom