Perception Spring 2023

winter
tucked under the covers when it’s too late to walk home—
you’re both awake and you know you’re both awake but
silence and street noise fills the air like thick smog. if you
open your mouth it will all come tumbling out, splattering
the silent air with clumsy, uncoordinated words that you
would much rather keep to yourself
but they climb up your throat like bile in the bated dark.
you imitate sleep until the sun hits the window panes,
then you sit up stiffly, reach down for your shoes and
take her coat out into the snowy street.
52 | Perception
Wizard on Horseback
Sarah Mednick | Digital
Spring 2023 | 53