HOLY HOLY HOLY SAID FIVE TIMES FAST by Joanna C. Valente

Holy Holy Holy Said Five Times Fast

hush · issue 3

Your body
laid out

And I want you to be gorgeous
but I am afraid instead.

It is not you.

 

I don’t cry. I only
cry alone.

 

Kiki is there in the car and smoking

and we’re Thelma and Louise
and we’re cursing you

for leaving

 

especially when we could have all

been

laughing until

we found ourselves

surrounded by clouds

in a lake

 

& here we are born from stars, going

on & in forever.

 

Your father’s blue eyes

turned a different blue with longing

for you eternal.

 

After your body, I am
watching this man and woman

under a rain-soaked sky, yellow

sun marry

 

and not know the pain of a heart

stopped, too big for a world

where beating is a risk

of losing


that thing that isn’t our body—that

thing we

 

usually forget about like

a bad TV show.

 

I want to say, soak it all in,

eat every minute until the blood

drips from your mouth

 

between your teeth.

 

Don’t waste it like I wasted

the years on others when I should have been

with you

the whole time,

(I’ve always been dumb that way, my love,

I am sorry,
always);

 

What is whole like the hearts

that beat in our chests

forever and ever and ever?

 

This hallway, I see you:

all the lights in all different

colors—

 

and how can I say,

When do I get to see again?

 

How answers your question

from the last time I saw you
with breath?

 

Where do I find you except

inside this hallway?

 

This hallway is long

but I can wait.

 

Until then, I’ll find different

rooms

 

and turn their lights

on and off, your

body has finally landed

 

on a feather bed somewhere draped

in purple light and Frank

 

playing

just for you

strong chords like

 

your heart that beat so hard

to give, has sailed

 

itself to far away seas.

 

You came to me

in dreams and I couldn’t

remember what you said

 

when I woke up

and all I could feel was

your absence

 

and see the candle

you moved

knowing what you did

 

and said would always

be invisible from now on—

 

the color of dreams.

Joanna C. Valente

Joanna C. Valente is a human who lives in Brooklyn, New York, although originally from the rings of Saturn. Joanna is the author of Sirs & Madams, The Gods Are Dead, Marys of the Sea, Xenos, Sexting Ghosts, No(body), and A Love Story (Vegetarian Alcoholic Press, 2021). They are the editor of A Shadow Map: Writing By Survivors of Sexual Assault and the illustrator of Dead Tongue, a poetry collection by Bunkong Tuon as well as Raven King, a poetry collection by Fox Henry Frazier (Yes Poetry, 2021). Joanna received a MFA in writing at Sarah Lawrence College. Currently, Joanna is the founder of Yes, Poetry and the senior managing editor for Luna Luna Magazine.