2023 Barrett Winner
3rd Place Kalimah Gardner
Hands. Extending. Anticipating.
Like the sun ready to kiss the moon.
Like the stars beckoning to dance with the sky.
Though night is destined to come,
my hands rise to the sun, knowing they'll be touched.
My heart growls.
Wanting to devour the sweet taste of life.
Savor the crisp of its bite and the warmth of its broth.
But nothing comes.
No stars dance across the bare sky.
No sun warms the cheeks of the moon.
And my hands continue to reach for its savior,
but the sky seems farther away.
A servant to faith yet a mistress to doubt,
as I’ve kissed its lips before.
My head hangs as I’m no longer a stranger to its
promising touch.
Is this what I’ve been praying for?
For my heart to find warmth and love,
by the touch of someone who curses life’s name.
But life is known to be stingy.
Birthing starving babies,
who want nothing more than to be full of its presence.
And life’s a monster.
So they die.
Hands crumble and fade.
Servants find solace in the warmth of sin.
The sun continues to weep for its savior.
And the sky dreams of the perfect waltz.
And I, slowly dissipate into nothingness.
Like the rest of the world, a foolish victim to life.