Two Poems by Nebula Joy

These two poems by Nebula Joy explore the poet’s queerness through memory and acceptance of circumstances that are out of their control…

by: Nebula Joy

Summer Dream

clouds pass overhead
with a sense of urgency
as if they have
somewhere to be
as we lie on the grass
it pricks my skin
it reminds me to move
but your shrill voice objects

the only place I need to be
is here with you
insects babbling
sweat starting to intumesce
I keep my eyes shut 
to guard against 
the ever-burning sun
and your unplucked mustache

we talk about things
I can no longer remember
all I am capable of
is wishing
aching and begging
that I could have simply
reached out one time
to grab your clammy hand

the greed I have
to keep you here
locked away
all to myself forever
within this fog of memory
tempts me to kiss you
with ardor and urgency
but your lips are chapped

my only wish
when I am in
the depths of you
is to peel away your clothes
like the outer petals of a peony
revealing your delicate center
so I may take in your nakedness
but your zipper is broken

if only my tongue
could touch yours
and perform
the dance of lovers
just as we did the first time
we could finally discuss
how this could work
but your tongue is not silver

I exist in this reverie
of our last summer
dreaming of you
and what could have been
if only we had more time to sleep
and a glass of water
to quench our undying thirst
but the well has dried
As The Casket Closes

as the casket closes
one last time
photographs encapsulate her
preserving her in time forever
a grotesque ensemble
to mock her for eternity
but one cannot mock the worms

as the casket closes
one last time
never-born children enter the stage 
and climb inside to rest their redolent heads
on her embalmed bosom
no milk will they find 
for her estuaries are long forgotten

as the casket closes
one last time 
peonies and daisies
in preferred shades of pink and white
begin to wilt in real time
their petals pirouette to the ground
a harrowing reminder of her mortality

as the casket closes
one last time
whispers float around the room
alongside the sounds of dabbing tissue
yet she remains in the spotlight
a repugnant exhibit for people to
poke their practiced expressions in

as the casket closes
one last time
they will say she was beautiful
a lie performed whilst on her stage
an offense they can only enact once
yet they misread their lines
she was not beautiful
she was complicated
she was impulsive
she was jealous
she was needy
all things that now
have come to 
an end

as the casket closes
one last time

Nebula Joy (they/she) is a writer of Latine heritage who is often recognized for their dedication as a mother, and expertise as an educator. They proudly embrace their identity as a member of the LGBTQIA+ community, and draw writing inspiration from personal experiences. Currently residing in the captivating Land of Enchantment, New Mexico, Nebula passionately expresses their creativity through a variety of written and physical works, exploring themes that encompass darkness, beauty, and the grotesque. Their writing is a testament to their deep love for storytelling and their vivid imagination.

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