i don’t believe for one second that saoirse would
try to jump off the back of a cruise ship for any reason
but if i could see timmy striding out to save her, perhaps
i could suspend my disbelief.
like i could imagine that she might end up engaged
to some douche for societal reasons, but not that she would
solve it by finding out how a body handles rudders,
her jawline is too strong for that, my love for her
must keep her afloat. but why have movies at all
if we can’t see him look at her out of the top of his eyes,
all lashes & pools of hazel, if we can’t see him
sketching her, his fingers messy with the charcoal,
or watch her spinning in steerage in a sequined dress,
chugging beer, chest heaving & curls coming loose,
or him scampering through the engine room, before
concealing them both in the cab of a Renault, the velvet
seats on their naked skin, what’s the point if we can’t
watch him as he does what he does best: adore another
but as Jack.
Aly Pierce is originally from Doylestown, PA and currently lives in Beverly, MA. Her debut collection of poems The Visible Planets (Game Over Books) and split chapbook with Cassandra de Alba, Cryptids (Ginger Bug Press), both came out in 2020. Most recently, she has been published in the Red Ogre Review and Peach Mag. You can find her online as @instantweekend.