We took the solo cups out in trash bags
Half empty chip bags on paper plates
And packed up the beds we made on the floor
I go hungover to the funeral
That my father insists is not a funeral
Celebration of life
Like a mouthful of wet marble
There are lights strung up along the dock
My grandmother weeping from one good eye
I’m dressed in tangerine
And can’t stop biting my nails
Last night we played chess across the bar
Sent videos saying I miss you across the ocean
Across nine hours
Into someone else’s morning
Last night I loved a little louder
And did not miss what I’m missing now
Devon Borkowski is a writer, painter, and actor from the New Jersey Pine Barrens. She recently graduated from Rutgers University with a BFA in visual arts. Previously her work has appeared in The Writers House Review, The Dillydoun Review, and is upcoming in Room Magazine.