Waterlogged

I watched you in the dark and your dark
became my dark.

To come home from school and find you
with your back against the cushions, curled

against the world, heavy
curtains blocking out all that light.

I’d look at your sadness
and feel

for a smile, my fingers
fumbling

over crevasses filled with tears. Their
waterlogged prints unrecognizable

from searching so long. I used
to wish that I could hug you

the way the couch did and feel
your warmth.

But I went to my room,
closed the curtains,

and let the darkness hug me
instead.

---

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Ryan Norman is a writer from New York living in the Hudson Valley. Inspired by the landscape, he writes what he feels. His work has appeared in From Whispers to Roars, XRAY Literary Magazine, Black Bough Poetry, Storgy Magazine and elsewhere. You can find him on Twitter Ryan Norman (@RyanMGNorman) / Twitter