cw: illness, death
overlay of sky on blue ghostly film 
clinging to your windows can there 
really be so much water past the glass 
that it blends flat with sky all that 
water the color of the waiting room 
when the wind hits your nail polish on 
my old nail polish paper over me please 
like a palimpsest like the spray at the point 
always rising up to meet us on the rocks 
soak through these bones let me pretend 
it's the saltwater of home when my 
tears meet the frigid shore everybody
left already except us and 
i might be next to go
Alexandra Weiss lives in Chicago, where their apartment is being overrun by houseplants. They edit for Another Chicago Magazine, blog for the Collective for Radical Death Studies, and have work in or forthcoming in Capsule Stories, Death's Dormant Daughter, and Cicada's Lament among other places.
header image: Aleksandr Eremin via Unsplash