By Allison Janicki
Name the vibrations that bring you Back down to earth— Words that live in your head on repeat And words that left years ago But echo back in the finger taps That come alive when the right spark Is ignited. A melody folds you into yourself: You’ve been waiting for this juicy Slice of nostalgia To drip down your wrists And catch on your toes— Drenched in sticky— How did you get here? Or, rather, How did you leave there? With your eyes closed, It’s like you never did.
Allison Janicki is an artist, writer, reader, editor, library technician, half-marathoner, sub-par ukulele player and cat lover from West Bloomfield, MI. Her previous publications include The Sonder Review, Goat’s Milk Magazine, Storm Cellar, Volney Road Magazine, and Voice of Eve. She still doesn’t know what she wants to be when she grows up.