And I hold on

by Malarie Gokey 

The lions in front of the New York Library are trying so hard to remain 
dignified with pigeons on their heads. I am trying to avoid smiling at the 
group of fencers gathering outside. They are strapping on straight jackets 
and putting on masks. 

Concealment is elegance, an art I am trying to learn. 
My teeth are naked and white as invitations. Strange men write their 
names inside me so I cannot forget them when they leave. He reaches for 
my hand and I let go. 

And I let go. He lets me go. And I hold on. And I hold on.

Malarie Gokey is a sophomore majoring in Journalism and Comparative Literature with a minor in Creative Writing. She enjoys writing in a variety of styles and experimenting with forms. Pierrot le Fou is one of her favorite movies. The city is her muse.