SLICK
by Mia Condic

#1

SLICK

I knew a guy in college
he listened only to classical music
a psychology student
you could tell he was destined for a future in
philosophical monologues
the way he orchestrated the words from his
classical mouth
but a terrible character
the one that demanded the supper on the table
at precisely 6 p.m.
just as warm, not too hot
so he could go to bed at 9
despite the differences in our
lifestyles
I enjoyed talking to him
even now I cannot explain it
but he was a pleasant person
from afar
I’m sure he still is
somewhere
while composing his stilted music
or orchestrating his patients
with his long thin fingers
classic slick outfit
ironed monochromatic shirt under a sweater
a look not a lot of guys tried in college
carrying his briefcase from class to class
while others carried loose scripts under their armpits
eternally asking for a pen
in their neighbor’s pencil case
thinking how many familiar faces will be in that cheap cocktail bar after class
but our classical guy always went straight home
alone
he despised sharing his living space
where he held his baton up high
while listening to Mozart
I bet he’d enjoy being my therapist today

#2

WEATHER

they have been falling all day now
fingertips on typewriter keys
sprinkles on a fairy bread
cinnamon on milk foam
randomly and nimbly
hitting your forehead and eyelids
melting on your cheeks
divine white sparks and trickles

#3

PLAYING DEFENCE

This is home
You are the front door
and all the windows and our hanging photos
This is home you give me
on a good day
when my voice isn’t high-pitched
my muscles relaxed
I don’t have to stop to inhale air
You’re the light breeze and the calm
I’m the earthquake
I shake and I rattle
I cause disturbance
I fuss and I rebel
Even when our bed is not a battlefield
I still have my shield on
I still defend myself
I still charge
dreading
at the same time
you will change
or perhaps already have
I look for defects
justifying my early way out
I don’t like myself for that
but I don’t know who the aggressor is
anymore
is it me
is it you
or is it the society we feed with our discord
Only we ate from their hands first

About the Author:

Mia Condic

Mia Condic is a 27-year-old girl from Split, Croatia. As a huge travel aficionado, she’s constantly daydreaming about her next trip. She’s a University graduate with a Bachelor’s degree in Spanish, and a Master’s degree in Russian language and literature. Shy, and a complete geek when it comes to good books, movies, and music. She likes writing better than speaking, and it has been her good companion for the majority of her life. She currently resides in The Netherlands.

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