Even Death Can Become a Cliché
	after Edwidge Danticat

What if I will the gaping void 
to relinquish its darkness? 

What if I choose to fill this pit with fuchsia 
line its rough edge with tangerine and crimson?

What if instead of an angry tide 
pulling me deeper beneath the surface 

I let you wash over me like a sunset 
your memory so bright it leaves golden spots 

dancing across my closed eyelids 
my skin warm to the touch?



Your Shirts No Longer Smell Like You

Wrapped in tattered flannel 
pockets worn thin by Winchesters 
I watch the thawing ground 

as it nudges dormant bulbs 
purple flash of tender crocus 
noses through melting snow 

the fragrant grape hyacinth 
top-heavy with clustered orbs 
soon, too, the daffodils 

your favorite herald of spring 
perennial golden spontaneity 
that survives the lingering frost. 



Pick the Best Possible Answer

1.	Reasons for my nausea:
a.	Ovulation
b.	Ice cream for dinner
c.	Jamie is dying
d.	All of the above

2.	Reasons my jaw hurts:
a.	Grinding teeth during sleep
b.	Braces
c.	Jamie is dying
d.	All of the above

3.	Reasons for my insomnia:
a.	Nausea
b.	Jaw pain
c.	Jamie is dying
d.	All of the above

About the author:

Gabby Gilliam is a writer, an aspiring teacher, and a mom. She lives in the DC metro area with her husband and son. Her poetry has appeared in One Art, Anti-Heroin Chic, Plant-Human Quarterly, The Ekphrastic Review, Vermillion, Deep Overstock, Spank the Carp, and others. Her fiction has appeared in Grim & Gilded and multiple anthologies.  You can find her online at gabbygilliam.com, on Facebook at www.facebook.com/GabbyGilliamAuthor, on Twitter @pixxiecrafter, and on Instagram @pixxiepoetess.

Feature image by Ryan Yeaman on Unsplash