And You Were There

Aaron Ellis

When my eyes were blind, wound
tight by lashes, locked with twisted hair
like laces knotted twice to bind just right.
I heard your foot tapping.

When my brain alone in quilted corner
conjured living room lights burning bare
beyond the lines of lucid door aglow.
I swung up my feet and fell out of bed.

When my cheeks, elder now, remembered
tender the scratch of carpet tendrils there
beneath the drywall Earth we brothers shared.
I saw you sitting at your desk.

When my teeth chimed shy xylophone pings
for the tongue that, scared, swallowed words
unheard; the lips that, numb, said nothing.

About the Author

Aaron Ellis is a senior at Oklahoma State University majoring in English Creative Writing. He is from Shawnee, Oklahoma, where he and his family have raised alpacas, trees, a few ducks, and two dogs named Punkin and Chewy. He can often be found reading comic books or playing tabletop games with friends and frenemies. After graduation, he looks forward to finally walking up the big steps of Morrill Hall.


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