Lindsey Warren
Lauds
More than many
lights turn the room
over and
over
to find its
near
colors, but
only one
makes the walls
as soft as the inside
of my body
lets me believe
it is. I seem more
because of all these
lights but
that’s just my dark-
nesses speaking,
a color spoke
there once
so distilled
I heard it arrive
in waves,
much like the lights
do now,
much like how
they live
through the colors
they find.
I am found by
what and have
nothing to show
for it except
two hands that
relieve themselves
of my face,
my face a dream
and disappearing,
somehow letting
the world
go on.
Lauds
More than many
lights turn the room
over and
over
to find its
near
colors, but
only one
makes the walls
as soft as the inside
of my body
lets me believe
it is. I seem more
because of all these
lights but
that’s just my dark-
nesses speaking,
a color spoke
there once
so distilled
I heard it arrive
in waves,
much like the lights
do now,
much like how
they live
through the colors
they find.
I am found by
what and have
nothing to show
for it except
two hands that
relieve themselves
of my face,
my face a dream
and disappearing,
somehow letting
the world
go on.
Lindsey Warren is a recent graduate of Cornell University’s MFA program. She has been published in The Fox Chase Review, Broadkill Review, Icarus Down, Rubbertop Review, Marathon Review, GASHER Journal, Josephine Quarterly, Anti-Heroin Chic and Hobart. Lindsey is the recipient of a Delaware Division of the Arts Fellowship and has been a finalist for the Delaware Literary Connection Prize and the Joy Harjo Prize. A poem of hers is in the anthology What Keeps Us Here: Songs from the Other Side of Trauma forthcoming in January 2019. She splits her time between Ithaca, New York and Newark, Delaware.