Amora: Stories

by Natalia Borges Polesso

As if it were easy, or effortless, or ordinary to draw our tensions to the surface. To make words breach our throats and come out nice and neat, full of exact or ambiguous meaning.

I’m going to fashion a boat from this journal and then use some more pages to make a jacket.

To take inventory. To list details. To quantify love as hours.

I wanted to clasp her fine white neck and crush it with all the verbs she never used. To drown her and, maybe, draw out all the things I wanted to hear and that she never thought of saying. All the things that were actually only mine.

For my part, I will try to remain unchanged so that you will always love me. Oh, so you like surprises? Well, in that case I’ll switch things up.