Charlie M. Brown

Aphantasia

Not so much the sun
as that clot of shadow
pulling close. Inhaling

that sun-kiss
fast enough you forgot
who gave it.

But you remember
the distance,
you remember the waiting

like warm breath
on your neck. Your stillness

the gap between two hands
skin could never fill.

And after.

Your hands know
a child always touches the stove
twice.

And your feet, the way
time only knows falling.

Or that they must hold steady
the night, from pressing

cold hands
into day

where the breath of every dusk
has become
the air,

there is none.

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Charlie M. Brown’s poems and essays are forthcoming or have appeared recently in journals such as Tahoma Literary Review, 30 North and The Scarab. He is currently an undergraduate student studying creative writing at Salisbury University in Maryland. He enjoys film, photography and music.