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Elegy for a Promise Ring

After Iliana Rocha

An opal is just another means of surrender. A circlet of diamonds like a crown of candles. A kiss behind the grocery store. The peach lace bra I told you about while you were in Hawaii. A precipice, a lighted path to the unknown. I wanted you to know those moonlit places, the silver openings of a body. Your bitten fingernails across my thigh. The crinoline skirts under a white dress, the easy acquiescence. A ring on my left hand, songs by the Beach Boys, wouldn’t it be nice if we were older. The moonlight stealing into the front seat, another way of promising. I didn’t know it would end like that, the red nightgown, the tea lights near the bed. Handprints on my legs, the fan blades turning in a circle, the way you pulsed like a star. I don’t think you saw the opals in the corners of my eyes, burning. I don’t think you saw me blow out the candles. The way the wicks curled into themselves. The way the burned strands split into two.


Melissa McEver Huckabay’s (Twitter: @melpsoul) writing has appeared in SWWIM, Poetry South, Defunkt, and elsewhere, and her short fiction has won the Spider’s Web Flash Fiction Prize from Spider Road Press. She has an MFA in poetry from Texas State University, and lives in Texas with her husband, son, and two affectionate cats. Her favorite sweet is chocolate cake.

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