Alicia Winton

Erasure of Erica Lewis

                                      lately i've caught myself feeling
this is a fairytale
better get my shit together better gather my shit
let the ground know who's
standing on him

you're in this condition of
doubt
you have to throw the right way or you have to let go

you shouldn't be trying to juggle your own fire all the time

such collapsing
bleeds under the skin

the body is akin to the conspiracy but
because it cannot be rational this makes it clear
it does not matter

time stops and you are reminded that human relationships can be both
simple and unsolvable

the sickness inherent in representation

here
have my arms

we go into these things totally blind

an empty page feeling helped by geography

we stop
walking we are taking that walk

this thing that's like touching except you don't touch

one foot and one foot

and
whatever else this place isn't

but then he was a tourist and a tourist can't help but have a
distorted opinion of a place

i realize myself doing these things

calling it
memory

you probably don't even have to imagine for chances are you have experienced

some degree of reversal yourself

spinning plates to square every process
the room in which a death
we rest on forms assumed

you're going to have to
scream that it hurts


Self Portrait With Meditation

In... Out...

Ripples that I feel on
                    your skin
                               when I trace circles
                    with my fingers.

Clear mind... Don’t know...

Pebbles
                    sinking
                                like
                                           sunlight
                    into the sea.

In... Out...

Shattering.
Loving.
Screaming.
Questioning.
                    Words slipping
                                     out of your mouth
                                                     like black venom.

Clear mind... Don’t know

                    Intangible
                                    as a ghost.

In... Out...

                    My fingers dance
                                    down your spine
Performing an autopsy
of your
skin
                    soul
                                    thoughts.
Your emotions that you
                    imprison six feet
                                    under.
                    Hiding your mind
                                    in the accordion folds
                    of your heart.

Clear mind... Don’t know...

                    Swimming through
                                    a black sea
                                                    waves crashing
                                                                                    frothing
                                                                                                     sinking.

In... Out...


Alicia Winton is currently a first year student at Boston University in the College of Communication. She hopes to attain a double major in Journalism and Film/TV. When not in Boston, she lives in Lutherville Maryland. This is her first journal publication.