They were together in silence like an old married couple wary of life, beyond the pitfalls of passion, beyond the brutal mockery of hope and the phantoms of disillusion: beyond love. ― Gabriel García Márquez, Love in the Time of Cholera
What is this, love, that keeps us distant and alone, keeps us together but apart, you sleeping in the other room? We both still gaze into each other’s Facebook faces, newsfeeds, status updates. On the news the pictures waver, grim reports, masked and unmasked, hidden and in plain sight. What is this that feeds the solitary soul so well the chest tightens? Let’s make new pacts, fresh instigations before our human tissues tense, our lungs refuse to fill. I will dress myself in wilderness and you will learn to dance.
Cynthia Neely has three award–winning chapbooks, Hopewell Bay (Seven Kitchens Press, 2017), Passing Through Blue Earth (Bright Hill Press, 2016), and Broken Water (Flyway: Journal of Writing and Environment, 2011). Flight Path (2014) was the Aldrich Press book contest finalist. Her essays appear in The Writers’ Chronicle and Cutthroat Journal.