By NICOLE ITKIN
not echoes, maybe
not even ghosts
still, they stand in
for
everything (everything)
I need most.
A girl in red curls over a bridge,
Dress trailing longer, lower-
who’s falling?
when a statue clutches her sculptor
who fell?
when everyone’s hugging, hugging you so tight
I look at the sky
As if it’ll tell me
something (something)
I missed when I was alone
What could I think about?
the way I think about
art I haven’t seen,
but could.
Would art
(be)
Like me?
Please, sit down,
I can’t
stop myself from insisting
to the girl on the bridge
standing up, up, up
in time (but whose?)
it’s hard to say now,
it was even harder
before I knew
people are the imitations
paintings
are too thoughtful
to be
oh darling,
you might be a ghost,
But
why?
why did you like the cold?
why did you like the cold?
Miss,
step away please
I smile, sardonically,
I did it again,
looking into the water,
Looking up at the sun
striding across your cheeks
and maybe mine, but
what do I know
about what I looked like?
Miss?
Miss?
Right,
Right
My nose is pressed,
pressed up against
the bridge
I thought I was just looking at
I apologize,
apologizing as I step back,
my boots on hardwood floor,
Echoing
I’m Looking,
Still
Oh,
I know you wanted to infer,
never comfortable
being sure, but
I know you
wonder, so:
darling,
your dress tonight?
I do
think it’s stunning
Writer | Nicole Itkin ’26 | nitkin26@amherst.edu
Editor | Mel Arthur ’25 | marthur25@amherst.edu