Just Buffalo Literary Center proudly presents LIT CITY VOICES, a video poem series showcasing the voices and landscapes of Buffalo. Learn more at https://www.justbuffalo.org/.
Filmed & edited by Kyle Marler of Flatsitter.
by Sage Enderton
I fear I waited too long to tell you of hurt, so long that there is no more pain left to spoon feed you. My bedside jar of water has run dry, and instead I have been filling it with
religious paraphernalia that fills me,
Or maybe, it has filled me twice,
and I’ve forgotten that our red string has snapped into oblivion.
The lights don’t turn on anymore when I dance alone;
I leave them off so as not to see your shadow seeping into my floorboards
when I come too close.
How does the morning sunlight feel against
in your stomach? Use red vinegar to soothe the burn.
This place sounds like you,
vapid and forgettable.
You taught me how to drown out the noise, but
your voice is a horror film score and I think you may have taught me the wrong lesson.
I am a buckling knee and you have always been the asphalt.
Today I made a pair of earrings; a tiger and a deer. I modeled them after the two of us, but I will leave it up to you to pick which one you are –
I have already made my decision.