I’m measuring time now by your shadow.
Measuring it badly. There’s a requirement in the old
country, that you have love ready when you land.
That you should use bright colors for your
husband’s scarves so you can spot him on his ship
approaching. That you should use bright colors on
his cartouche so the afterlife can see him coming.
And why the fuck does any of that matter when
you’re gone. That you’ve done this. And do any
oddities matter. Can you still see small enough or
are you as large as a soul. Are you carving through
the fog. Are you returning. Did you land safely.
You don’t respond. Did you land safely. Can
anyone tell me. We are all watching the horizon and
turn away one by one. And look over our shoulders.
And trace the entire earth. And repeat. And rest.
And remember. And eat. And eat. And land safely.
And the colors come home.

Marcella Haddad is an MFA candidate at UMass Amherst, the Managing Editor of Moonflake Press, and a Tin House YA 2022 Scholar. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Variant Literature, Everyday Fiction, Apparition Lit, and others. You can find her in a tree, or at marcellaphaddad.com