Thursday, 21 November 2019


by Jann Everard

You would be surprised to know
how crowded it is.
That tucked up beside me on the mattress is
a younger me, a younger you.

I throw my leg over the bunched-up duvet
as if it is your thigh,
snake my hand across the sheets
of your skin,
kiss the pillow of
your warmdry lips.

Photos that speak the truth do not shroud
my memories of your body
spread-eagled, sweat-dewed,
ruby glans glinting against the warm white sheet.

I fall asleep with my hand, as your hand,
on my left breast.
Exhaling your name with each breath
And wake in the concave emptiness
of your side of the bed.

* * * * *

Jann Everard's short fiction and creative nonfiction have been published in journals in Canada, the United States, and New Zealand. She was the winner of The Malahat Review's 2018 Open Season award for fiction. She divides her time between Toronto and Vancouver Island.

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