B

Braille

by Olivia Pellegrini


lately
my mind is a dreamy soup
Yours, polished rosin.
I stand grey as a doorway
To embody sleep
my chance to mishear
when you whisper a name
could be mine,
could be anyone’s.
and I stand grey as a doorway.
a fear.
A question mark
hidden in vowels
They ring truer than chimes
fragile and funny
like Braille on a wooden door
Scared, to trace silver names
I cower, dogmatic
leak a silent tear,
It winks like a small cut star
and fades to grey in the doorway
You should paste it in a yearbook,
printed.
Defined in curvature yet cornered like algebra.
Fractions were easiest to swallow,
but the point of a decimal
is to make some kind of sense (¢),
so divide yourself by 2, and get me

Olivia Pellegrini

Olivia is a writer and poet from Massachusetts. She is also a student at Sarah Lawrence College in Bronxville, New York. Most of Olivia's work takes inspiration from that of Banana Yoshimoto, JD Salinger, and Maggie Nelson.