nightly ritual

by Eva Allison

goodnight to the lost leaves. goodnight to the

expired makeup leeching in my bathroom drawer.

goodnight to the broken glass, the fruit dying,

empty water bottles. goodnight to my face in the toilet

water. goodnight to the memories laced within my teeth,

cavities burning – my dentist told me to stop rinsing 

with ghosts. goodnight to the pale sounds of my cat wanting

me, but I can’t reach the door. goodnight to the crumbles of 

my name. goodnight to mirrors of black frames. 

the truth is, i see myself in the back of my mind, dancing,

the gooeyness of herself gone.

i reach for her as my eyes go to sleep.

i almost touch her. always about to touch her. 




Eva Allison is a recent graduate of Mount Holyoke College, having received a B.A. in English and Psychology. She is the 2024 recipient of the Ada L.F. Snell Poetry Prize from the college. You can find her writing in recent or upcoming publications of Voices & Visions Journal, The Agapanthus Collective, and Sardines Press. In her free time, you can find her reading and searching for that long-lost crochet hook.

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