I’ve taken to sleeping naked at night

dreaming terrible lies beneath these stained sheets–

we meant something, we mean something, you were

just passing through.

There are places in me you can never see.

I’m practicing my handwriting, where the trembling comes in

sprawled out on the floor for invisible cameramen

to trace me in chalk, walk away.

I’m losing my mind with you inside me

you can never go,

memories, no.


Holly Day’s poetry has recently appeared in The Cape Rock, New Ohio Review, and Gargoyle. Her newest poetry collections are A Perfect Day for Semaphore (Finishing Line Press),  In This Place, She Is Her Own (Vegetarian Alcoholic Press), A Wall to Protect Your Eyes (Pski’s Porch Publishing), I’m in a Place Where Reason Went Missing (Main Street Rag Publishing Co.), and The Yellow Dot of a Daisy (Alien Buddha Press).