this is the ball that fell into the pond
a vanishing glimmer, dulled now
leaves etched along the tarnished equator
when did I put it away? why did I love it?
why do I seem to love it still?
you spent the night on my pillow
you asked if it was all right first
and made sure I was certain
I held the ball above us
twisting it to catch the light
painting you in gold
I don’t remember the ball after that
I don’t remember putting it in this box
I don’t remember the last time
I saw you swimming
but I loved watching you
your strong legs kicking
your body vanishing below
if I imagine you in the pond
maybe you’re there still
a moment from surfacing
a golden ball in your mouth
that look in your eyes
Brianne Battye writes fiction, poetry, and video games. She is the author of the chapbook wholehearted (845 Press) and contributed to the short story anthologies Dragon Age: Tevinter Nights (Tor) and Well, This is Tense (Bag of Bones Press). Brianne likes to write in a cozy corner nook. Her cat likes to look for ghosts in the walls. You can find more of her writing at briannebattye.com
photo by Tetyana Kovyrina (via pexels)
Crow & Cross Keys 