Stop Pulling Metaphors out of Melancholy by Emma DeBono

The transom window
above Noel’s red front door
extracts light
onto the hardwood floor,
resembling a half moon.
In June,
I find the real you
months too late.
Your tongue always did resemble
a hungry snake.
A half-curled smile.
Half-opened eyes.
A half empty glass of gin.
A full kiss goodnight
from a stranger
again.
The middle of the bed
has become an analogy for
learning not to share.
Learning how to look at a red door
and just see painted wood, chipped,
not a metaphor.
Not an allegory of my mouth,
an ode to welcome all.
Just a door to
keep the summer flies out.
And the flies
will not resemble your presence.
Always returning. Always in the distance, buzzing
in the same octave you used to hum my name.
The moon is just the moon,
not a calling to the dark.
My body is just a body,
not a shipwreck,
not anymore.

EMMA IS A WRITER & POET CURRENTLY LIVING IN NEW YORK. Growing up as an only child, she developed her love for story-telling from a very young age. At age 20, she moved to New York City to pursue her career and passion for creative writing and media. Emma has her Bachelors degree in Communications & Creative Writing from Marymount Manhattan College. Emma has contributed to several magazines and media outlets and, in September 2019, released her debut poetry collection, ‘Water the Plants While I’m Away’.