Writing

Remember

Januz-02.jpg

 

16th June 2017

Remember a day — your days
spent skipping stones for smiles.
Teeth were practical — then —
our freckles hung on phone dials.

When I look through my iris
I know I see my feelings —
an age of taxidermy sells
me to foreign souls, kings

of Mars — their pearls
are strung around their lips
though, I grow my hair
with salt and cigar tips.

Youth is the diamond life
— proof of God —
we sell elastic for plastic
but our currency is flawed.

I wish my lungs collapsed
that night from smoke —
I wish stone bruises enticed
your hands to choke

me — but you remembered
that day, when you
promised your mother and
kissed your daughter, you

remembered this sky
is not your applause —
it’s vintage? Can I call your
rejection vintage because

you didn’t love me since
the sun rose — please?
Kisses yesterday were rough
to my skin, but now with ease

I salute my ‘heroes’ that snort
lines off my breast —
I remember my day, when I
realised my mind will never rest

— but what holds a memory
in the age of remembrance?
False alibis placard our
tombstones, our forgotten sense.

By Christopher Cash

About Christopher:

Christopher Cash is a nineteen year old English Lit and Maths student in Trinity College Dublin, exploring this world through vivd descriptions, starry skies and lost words. He enjoys fashion and art, all things astrological, and has a love for 19th/20th century american literature. You can find out more about him on his Instagram(@christophercashx). 

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Artwork by Januz Miralles

 

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