I’m supposed to be a poet but can’t find the words to say how I love you by Alex Stolis

 

Image / ricardo rojas

I’m supposed to be a poet but can’t find the words to say how I love you

for Catherine on our anniversary

Once, I knew love. It was guileless and free, wide open

borderless. Then the crows arrived in twos, threes,

and an obsidian grief swallowed the sky. 

Language was lost, buried under the thunder 

of beaks pecking out earth’s crust. My voice hoarse,

the words flotsam, adrift in an empty vocabulary. 

I armoured myself with night, burrowed into soft

feathered wings; drank to forget, appealed to a minor

god to strike me dead, unable to blackout memories 

of you: a young ponytailed artist, wishing to disappear 

and have a new girl take your place; the notquitewild 

hippie chick firebrand ready to conjure a new world. 

You survived, to teach, to love and protect fiercely

unconditionally; to write into the ether, past the pain

and sorrow into tenderness and grace.

Years later, the crows flock in fours, fives, and sixes; 

indefatigable Stygian soldiers carrying cancer, the shiny 

allure of the abyss, but I’m disarmed and ready. © Alex Stolis

Alex Stolis

Alex Stolis has had poems published in numerous journals. Two full-length collections, Pop. 1280 and John Berryman Died Here, were released by Cyberwit and are available on Amazon. His work has previously appeared or is forthcoming in Piker’s Press, Ekphrastic Review, Louisiana Literature Review, Burningwood Literary Journal, and Star 82 Review. His chapbooks include Postcards from the Knife-Thrower's Wife (released by Louisiana Literature Press in 2024), RIP Winston Smith (released by Alien Buddha Press in 2024), and The Hum of Geometry; The Music of Spheres (released by Bottlecap Press in 2024). He lives in upstate New York with his partner, poet Catherine Arra. 

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