by Shannon Getz
I write in your old French notebook,
my thoughts neatly laid down amongst your impatient
scrawl of verb constructions and vocabulary.
Je suis
Je vais
J’étais
What was it you were…
Happy?
Sometimes happy?
Pretending for my sake?
Très difficile
Yes, it is very difficult
—to sleep
—to think of anything else
Mon cœur est triste
Yes, now, I can see how very sad a heart it was.
I smooth the wrinkles from the bedspread,
thinking about my own.
C’est que mon cœur est triste?
No.
My heart is
an indifferent pump.
Mon cœur est une machine.
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A bibliophile and word nerd, Shannon Getz is currently pursuing a degree in creative writing. Her publishing credit includes two short-stories in the Rio Review. When she’s not reading or writing, she’s working in her garden.