One Poem by Amy DeBellis
Myth
You come to me beneath the snake -skin of night, as though we are lovers.
I’m greedy and bottomless, my heart the grave of a star. My hands
in yours are murmur-soft, and all around us are fireflies glinting in darkness, imagined constellations.
You recur like a dream.
We travel roads eating their tails under the sun, then sneak away to the crawlspace of autumn to shelter in the rafters before winter comes roaring in.
When you speak, I try to listen, but all I can ever hear is the sound of insects.
It’s been so long since you died.
Amy DeBellis is a writer from New York. Her debut novel is forthcoming from CLASH Books (2024). Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in various publications including The Shore, Pithead Chapel, Maudlin House, Atticus Review, and Anti-Heroin Chic.