THE GODS WERE GONE LONG BEFORE DOOM CAME ON TUESDAY

star fell, palpitating lost child; promptly her sisters would follow and bring us truth;
it was such a gloomy day, the sky loomed over us like a jar;
I remember is remembrance possible at the very instant before
your raggedy old shoes
dancing
swiftly avoiding the puddles, they made a little noise
and you kept your eyes on the cracks
on the concrete;
didn’t say a word; I saw
you;
I saw your hand shivering;
then the bright yellow star fell,
buzzing, maddened,
plummeting at nauseating speed; opened my mouth and it burned my tongue,
it pulsed, warm and tender,
hurt my throat when I swallowed it;
I wanted to say ‘we gotta get out of here’
but I swallowed it;
cause it gets so lonely here in the city,
but it gets lonely anywhere;
you lit my cigarette it is possible,
I remember,
I remember it all,
we roamed the alleys a bit longer;
there was no one left up there;
the end was gentle and inconclusive;

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Sofia A. Marti, 21, Tucumán - Argentina ✯ IG: @sofia.a.marti

“Sofia A. Marti is an Argentinian poet and storyteller, aiming to subside the hauntings of neo-beatnik prophecies by letting archetypal forces puppeteer her.”