Hoarding Empties
“She’s never more beautiful than when she’s completely gone.”
-Daphne Gottlieb, pilot light
Remember that abandoned house
we played in? The windows:
loose scarred skin. The bricks: still a neat keyboard.
We turned our lungs to Velcro breathing in dust
like rocketship smoke. Remember the unswole closet
that we named hotel elevator and caboose and lion’s cage?
Remember the fun of being imprisoned, the loose-legged laugh
of it? Remember wobbling out of the dark, the light hitting us
like snow? Remember the glowing shriek
of not knowing where you were?
Photography © Allison Goldin
Aleph Altman-Mills is an autistic writer who collects acorns and likes to buy books other people have already written on. She has been published in The Legendary. She blogs and posts poetry snippets at really-fucking-confused.tumblr.com; poetry prompts are at darlingghosts.tumblr.com She loves you.
Allison Goldin is an artist living in California. Her work is a collection of spontaneous drawings from the imagination. The most common link throughout her art are the semi-recognizable creatures scattered amongst and bringing together the surrounding doodles.
