After Tryst

by Brian Wiora

Wherever you are

you are reading

your palms off of mirrors.

The séance of your lover

wherever I am

knows the fortune

of your ambulance hands

flashing red before me.

This is not about

how you moan with a man

you just met.

It’s about how you play

the porch harmonica

in a wicker rocking chair

with all the houselights

turned on.

Who are you waiting for?

What cannibal ghost

eats through your skin

as if you were in

some Buddhist hell?

I think you are lonely,

but you like the way

loneliness looks

in the mirror

like the movie we saw

in the era of our together.

Wherever you are,

I won’t forget the scene

where everyone lives

after they’re happy.

Brian Wiora is an MFA candidate in Poetry at Columbia University, where he serves as the Online Poetry Editor for Columbia Journal. His poems have appeared in Rattle, Light Journal, Rainy Day Magazine, and other places. He received Special Recognition in the 2018 Columbia University Writing Program Academy of American Poets Prize. Besides Poetry, he enjoys listening to classic rock music, performing standup comedy, and traveling.

Tip The Poet.png


October 2018

© 2020 by The Esthetic Apostle