—after Leslie Harrison’s “{I would drive to your grave}”

i should find you a grave but your grave is the cliff

the breaking point the concealed cave the wandering wind

whispering in the crevices the buoyancy of bodies

floating in shimmering water the wonder in gravity

the tide the timing the waves folding over themselves

i should find you a grave but you are the crescendo

over the rocks the fleeting the uncontainable the culmination

of rhythms the false start correcting itself the flames

gone down the blaze turned slow burn the familiar carbon smell

fainter and fainter still the dark the not quite dark

i should find you a grave but your grave is the internal eternal

oh sister i am lonely and i want to find you here

within me if i swallow your ashes will you stay

boarded in my body will you lurk in my lungs

your room is misused is empty is absence of you

little sister you were my torch my north star my polaris

and now i am here to guide you back now i am yours

your star map your bone home body your host

oh little sister i’ll hold your ghost

Bianca Glinskas

hails from Southern California where she studied English and Creative Writing at Cal State University Long Beach. Her work has previously appeared in Glass Mountain magazine and Ordinary Madness. You can read more from Bianca by exploring her online column covering Denver’s literary scene, at OnDenver.com.