Longing for the desert days,
spending an afternoon with you, at the casino—
sleepy by the hotel waterfall.
I used to dream about your leather jacket
and mirrored sunglasses,
and how you once told me
that even you were beautiful.
You’re out on the dry roads
chasing firefly trails, and collecting sea glass.
Do you miss the old thrift stores with red window paint?
Where’s your whiskey heat?
The soft brown leather of the corner booth in the lounge?
The slow drags of your cigarette, and circles of smoke?
Memories playback on Super 8,
tangled in balloons and silver streamers,
flickering like an old neon sign.
Marisa Silva-Dunbar’s work has been published in 24 Neon Magazine, Chantarelle’s Notebook, Cabinet of Heed, and Marias At Sampaguitas. She is a contributing writer at Pussy Magic, and is part of the Legend City Collective. Her work is forthcoming in Drunk Monkeys, Ghost Heart Literary Journal, Sybil Journal, and The Charles River Journal. Marisa is the founder and EIC of Neon Mariposa Magazine. You can find her on Twitter and Instagram @thesweetmaris.