Ď𝒾σ𝕣ᵃｍ𝒶

There is a version of this I’ll carry:

illusion-flanked starlight
hitting concrete
under ivy gates.

Put me back there
and I’d drink the night around us,
slurp it up
until my belly gurgled
too full of possibility.

Can a star burn out
at thirty-three?

This remedy—
dismembered—
won’t pour into our mouths
until we ask it.

The moon slicing my chest
is a kind of warning,
twitching
toward doubt.

I know you have no sympathy
for this kind of punishment.

My favorite memories
are from when I wasn’t there.

It antlers my brow.

Maryse Bernard is a Canadian-French musician and writer based between Los Angeles and Montreal. Performing as the bilingual alt-pop artist Maryze, she has toured Europe, Australia, and North America, including SXSW, and has been featured by NPR and Billboard. She served as Editor-in-Chief of Recording Arts Canada, worked as a journalist for the CBC, and her writing and translations have appeared in Bitch Media and Also Cool Mag.