“Lateness” & “The Plastic-Crystal Chandelier In My Step-Sister’s Room”

Written by Lisa Krawczyk

Edited by Callie Rowland, Savasia Thompson, Anria Williams, and David McConico

LATENESS

The time flies away from you gently

but nonetheless quickly. You don’t feel

the Autumn wind move in. Now

you’re stuck in tower seven —

seeing the season set in behind glass

and tilted blinds you want to draw up.

You can feel the wind. The leaves

rustle and escape their barked homes.

You are stuck — locked in

the ward. Your favorite time

of the year slips through a sieve

and your cupped hands stumble;

you can’t grasp water. Summer

drenched Autumn beyond recognition.

THE PLASTIC-CRYSTAL CHANDELIER IN MY STEP-SISTER’S ROOM

is not mine. The light, the room of her childhood —

things of beauty. Levitating, the chandelier

reminds me that there is an absence

of ownership. All the excess

abandoned in Philadelphia: My desk,

bookshelf, the blankets’ soft fleece; love,

the pretties and preciouses — golden and ancient,

a key stolen from that Parisian AirBnB. Worthless

things — a napkin, with cursive recommendations,

from Bryant’s; the hoarded beer cans.

There is no discrimination to loss. In art

ownership is anathema and deserves to be

punished. The illumination that hovers above

to provide glittering light. Do not claim it.

Lisa Krawczyk (they/them) is a queer, neurodivergent poet currently based in the Midwest. Their poetry can be found or forthcoming in Defunkt Magazine, the West Review, Intangible Magazine, In Parentheses, and elsewhere.