Upstairs

Alyssa Rizzo

Noises upstairs are becoming unbearable.

I hear their water running

I hear their cupboards closing

I hear their bed push against the wall over

and over

and o

o

over

and, yet, I can’t keep my good ear down.

It’s in the wait

surprise

and struggle

that keeps me turned

toward the ceiling fan.

“My name is Lucille, and I know how you feel…”

I lay

belly up

straining for sound.

Live Like You Love

Alyssa Rizzo

and if that were the thing

these dreams wouldn’t be needles under the

nails;

and in waking

blood bubble burst

to slide silent

tracing l

i

n

e

s through powder

creating crevasses

deep depressions

that fill only to your voice.

So, those words, spoken soft

I’ll take them fast

and eat them in a kiss—

swallow them with skin

for the way you fill me

helps me understand how I can

live like I love.