Nicole Oquendo


our bed

all that's left under the rubble—
scrap metal frayed wires old pipes
melted locks        concrete dust

sheets same color and what of the pillows
where is the one with the imprint of your face
but lumped under a chunk of brick

spittle from my screaming mixes with the ash
a paste around my lips my cheeks my hands
they move now on the brick to feel the coarse

texture of the last no a brick
in my two hands grainy and dense the impact—
more crumbling        brick is no more wall is no more

drawers empty the cabinets scoured
not a single shirt with the mark of your scent
before the burning took you

Nicole Oquendo is a nonbinary, latinx writer from Orlando. Her work has appeared in numerous literary journals, as well as the chapbooks some prophets, self is wolf, and wringing gendered we, and the hybrid memoir Telomeres. She is currently serving as an Assistant Editor for Sundress Publications, and as the Nonfiction Editor of The Florida Review and the Best of the Net anthology.

Current | Archives    Submit | Masthead    Links | Donate   Contact | Sundress