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