catapult magazine

.ten nos

by Adrian De Lange

lying on my back, I see how clouds think
trying on “I love you” would look like for

our relationship. I cover up my
green eyes, picture fifty different ways the
hour-long conversation between her and
me would go-things have been so good for

so long. Never did I dream I’d be in
this position: have to choose between “I
know that you’re my greatest friend” and letting
mystery control what happens next. I

toss and turn, my head awhirl, I scour the
sky, no clouds, no crystal on the horizon.
lost in trance, I cannot write a line that
finds me with her. Every wind blows backwards.

.ten nos