All creatures under the moon gaze into the
Blue, as we watch True Crime documentaries
Catapulting us to the future. They submit to the
Darkness. All creatures are listening. It might be
Easy to join them, but we whisper on another
Frequency. Sometimes they see us, they say we’re
Ghosts now. They ramble on about how we broke
History, how we’re echoes now. It was just our
Initiation into radio breaking. We paint pottery cracks yellow,
Jovial as our bones. I made a ring for you, you
Kept it till you could bury it with a copperhead’s
Lungs and hung the snakeskin above your door.
Maybe this was a warning of sorts. I think the snake feels
Naked now. Some of the creatures started dancing, an
Odd omen. You don’t listen. I hold our stories with
Prongs, I tie them with butcher string. We eat
Quesadillas six hours till sunrise, before they all start
Racing. I thought you liked your yellow jagged scars.
You Sacrificed our perfect nights for life. They’re mine now,
The tears on my hands are mine now. Remember when
Utopia was ours? It’s okay, all things can be broken with my
Vendetta. I’ll slip the Xanax in your apple sauce. I can hold your
Waste even if it’s shattered. Why didn’t you take the
Xanny? When did you start questioning me? We broke
Yolk, that was the nature of us. Sunrise never comes, but
Zeal is ours! It was ours! I was yours.
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Sadie Burch (she/they) is from Myrtle Beach, SC. She is a recent graduate of Interlochen Arts Academy. They are currently taking a gap year before starting their studies at Bennington College Vermont. She’s the 2023 winner of the Charle’s Crupi Memorial Prize and has previously appeared in the Interlochen Review and the Albion Review.