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Poetry: In Retrospect by Allie Parker

As if to preserve some beauty between us

we play jazz on your car radio,

We ride along, side by side, our eyes

on the unraveling road, we sit silent

under the bold notes of Miles Davis.

I remember when the sound

of Billy Holiday’s crackling record

accented your words, a background

to the warmth of your hand on my neck,

like the light of the candles we lit.

I never noticed how they burned,

how we recklessly let the wax

drip and crash onto the table.

I saw that they re-made you,

sent flickering shadows across your face,

igniting tiny flecks of gold in your eyes.

I cannot tell you when

I began watching those candles,

watching the red wax turn into liquid

and slip away from the flame,

or tell you why

we continue to gaze at the skyline

after the sun has gone down,

why we sit in the darkness together,

as if we were still watching

the colors that bled into the tree-tops,

as if we weren’t staring

only at the black horizon.


Allie Parker is a Los Angeles based actor, writer, and attorney.

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