It’s hard to address this missed connection. You aren’t a static thing. Your hair seems ever-changing, but my favorite was the brunette bob with lilac tips.
Writing by Emily Perkovich
Art by SayWhat
Coy Librarian in Aisle A12 —
It’s hard to address this missed connection. You aren’t a static thing. Your hair seems ever-changing, but my favorite was the brunette bob with lilac tips. There aren’t windows in this section, but I can tell by the way the fluorescents never leave you looking ashy, that your skin must glow deeply in the sun. You seem partial to layers, and I have rarely seen you without chunky knits and thermal honeycombs stacked one on top of the other.
For a long time, I have been content watching you pass by, arms full, glasses sliding down your nose, because I assumed you were just doing a job. Last week, you came to my section at the end of the night. You filed away several bulkier volumes, before pulling me from the shelf. I watched you slide to the floor, cross your legs. Suddenly, I was cradled in the nest of your limbs. Suddenly, I was no longer just a task. The way your eyes flitted across my skin still lingers, even now that I am once again closed. I know I don’t look like much now, but there used to be something handsome about gilded edges, and I am product if my environment and time.
If you’d like to meet up, I am always available for coffee. I haven’t been out in ages, and I am sure no one would notice my absence if we were to end up curled up and lost in one another. You know where to find me.
This piece was part of our editor’s line up. See DMs for a NSFW piece by Emily Perkovich, EiC of Querencia Press et al.
About The Writer
Emily Perkovich is from the Chicago-land area. She is the Editor in Chief of Querencia Press, an art evaluator with Persephone’s Daughter, and on the Women in Leadership Advisory Board with Valparaiso University. Her work strives to erase the stigma surrounding trauma victims and their responses. Her piece This is Performance-Art was a finalist for the 50th New Millennium Writings Award and she is a 2021 Best of the Net nominee. She is previously published with Harness Magazine, Coffin Bell Journal, and Awakened Voices among others. She is the author of the poetry collections Godshots Wanted: Apply Within (Sunday Mornings at the River) & The Number 12 Looks Just Like You (Finishing Line Press), baby, sweetheart, honey (Alien Buddha Press) as well as the novella Swallow. DMs is a poem from baby, sweetheart, honey July 16 2023.
About the Artist
SayWhat is a constant question-aire. Living in a bubble in the DC area and shackled by words, pants held up by suspenders not belts. Possibly AI ‘Tis the question. Judge for yourself. TBD-Not-PDQ. Fond of threads, ropes, wines, vines, and beans. Blank rolls of paper, world peace, and useless anecdotes also appeal. Sprung, but not from offspring. Maskaraids as a member of the institution. Favorite love story: Alice in Wonderland.
Cream Scene Carnival 