Perception Spring 2023

sun dial
Melina Iavarone
The sun rose again today, and it taped me to the bed. The light
doesn’t feel like a hot hug this morning; sunbeams sting my skin and
squint my eyes as I wish a happy birthday to someone who forgot
mine. Plaid pajama pants as thin as spider silk introduce the wintery
air to my tired body. Decorating my neck is an ancestor’s locket–
inside, a creased photo of my good luck charm, but the metal chills
my chest nonetheless. My legs seep down the bedside as if they’re
soggy slices of buttered toast. I’d like to slip into a drowsy nap or
maybe a comatose state; instead, I jot down my sweet lucid dream
while it’s fresh in my mind. Scribbling blue ink, I recount a garden,
picking every primrose and adorning an outdoor table with the
freshly picked blossoms. The sunrise was a harbinger, snapping its
fingers and ending the imaginary picnic. Bookmarking the page, I
kick at the baseboard, begging it stop its thumping. Hush! I love the
sunshine, but why must it burn me so early?
40 | Perception
Warm Heart
Alex Cao | Digital Painting
Spring 2023 | 41