See you later
I sang to you
Chubby-cheeked, slimy Baby Lila
Nana drove me home and evaded my questions about
How babies were made
See you later
Your pink backpack hung on one shoulder
That’s how the cool kids wore them
Pink flats with little bows
Sequins of reflection
Auburn hair in two pigtails
See you later
I responded, kissing your forehead
Cried when you boarded the bus
To kindergarten
You were supposed to be the younger one
Soon you’d be smarter than me
See ya later
You told him on that windy April dusk
You were fourteen when you had your first kiss
You came to me, wanting sis’s advice
You smirked each time your phone buzzed
Sea you later
Is what you captioned your Instagram post
A vision before the sunkissed tides
Clad in a white knitted tangle atop your bikini
See you later
Off to buy mangoes and vegetables and chocolate eggs
That you’d hide from Mom in our little spot
You could drive now
Had your very own green Jeep
Honked three times as you swerved into the driveway
Your little ritual
See you later
You dragged a suitcase in your shadow
Departed for December break
On a plane to a place
With sunny Winters
See you later
Your heart displayed on the monitor
After seventeen years of wasted memories
A thousand needles puncturing your ghostly skin
The hospital bed is stiff
As I crawl in and hold your hand
Your voice is a whisper
My eyes are damp
Your skin is waxy
Now I know how babies are made and how
People disappear and I wish I didn’t
The monitor beeps a final time
Doctors bustle in but I see nothing
Besides blue fabric
Then blackness
As I collapse into your stomach
Weeping
Mumbling
Even though you can’t hear
See you later
Hudson Warm is a sophomore at Hackley School in Tarrytown, New York. In December of 2020, she published her young adult fantasy novel, Not the Heir. Her poetry and flash fiction have been recognized by the Scholastic Art & Writing Awards and will appear in the 2021 Vision Literary Magazine. She's also a singer-songwriter, with songs available on most musical platforms.
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