An Idle Wandering Through the Landscape of a Silhouette

An Idle Wandering Through the Landscape of a Silhouette

You call me a sunflower and run your hands up my stem,
tongue tasting sunshine off of my petals until dusk settles
over the bedroom; through the darkness, you illuminate
my glimmering body – caught in earthshine and shivers.

We become creatures of the night, creatures of wonder–
your hands cupping the crescents arched against my shirt
before you eclipse my figure and dip your head lower;
lower, until this aching city lights up with daybreak and we’ve
only now grown tired, eyelids weighed down with slumber.

In sleep, I tangle into your embrace, moss climbing the arcade
of your shoulders; when I reopen my eyes, a feeling settles–
a single complicated realization, arisen from the gentle hum of
your rivers as they run between shattered, starving shores:

I am worthy of the flowers that bloom in my meadow after
your rain; worthy of the gentleness of your touch, of shivers
that make the hairs at the nape of my neck stand up straight;
with each solar eclipse I learn to spare grace for withered petals.

Later, I become a creature of the night, creature of wonder–
my hands cupping the crescents arched against my shirt, an idle
wandering through the landscape of a silhouette. Stars gasp, burn
out under my touch and I welcome the warmth on my fingertips;
you’ve shown me entire universes can fit in the space of a sigh.

Tamara Bašić


Tamara Bašić (she/her) lives in Croatia, where she is frequently trying to pluck gorgeous sentences from her thoughts and write them into infinity. Her work has been featured in Southchild Lit, celestite poetry, The Birdseed, fifth wheel press, Roi Fainéant, and elsewhere. She tweets instead of writing at @authortamarab.