The girl who couldn’t levitate got a cold. She cursed
the microwave for giving it to her, because the T.V.
told her that microwaves were bad and she cursed
the toothbrush for not having a wood tip and horse
hair. She stayed in bed and watched Netflix videos
and pretended like the titles were things that boys
were going to say to her: The Crying Game, The
Crow, Everybody’s Fine, Monsters, Malena, Mon-
sters. And even though her name wasn’t Malena,
she liked the way it sounded when the man on the
T.V. whispered it to her and once she realized her
imagination was wider and older than memory, she
was able to turn into nothing by thinking nothing and
by thinking nothing was able to not for so long that
she convinced herself she was levitating, and that’s
the story of how the girl who couldn’t levitate, levitated.

'The Girl Who Couldn't Levitate Got a Cold' 

by Kallie Falandays,

published at voicemailpoems.org

Your Living Marked My Heart

by: Faye Lanham Gibson


Do others think of you the way I do?
The embryo that grew beneath my heart.

There is so little proof you lived . . .
A metal marker on a grave,
A lighter, a wallet
That they gave . . .
Two certificates, official,
Like parentheses -
Beginning, 
End.

I sometimes see your friends . . .
On those days,
You seem alive in little ways.

Do others think of you the way I do?
The boy who grew into a man,
Unspoken dreams, unfinished plans.

There is so little proof you lived . . .
Some childhood books
And art, and yet . . .
How deeply carved
Your living marked my heart.