AMARYS DEJAI

my prose piece “What We Dug Out from the Garden”, published in issue 7.1 of Foglifter

current literary endeavors | instagram

from Proximity, Amarys Dejai

I used to write about you to keep you alive. Now, I do it to bury you.

One day, I will write love poems that will live under their pillow instead of the back of my throat.

waking up to a kiss from the sun and the songs of the birds. this is enough for me.

—from Things Buried Under the Floorboards [A Working Title], amarys dejai

fragments from 2018 // it doesn’t hurt to talk about you anymore (IG)

—amarys dejai

Thinking of the red thread of fate|IG

“I remember how I cried when the thunder ceased and the rain stopped falling.”

—from the journals of Amarys Dejai

I still feel you in the autumn breeze, I still hear you in the birds that sing, amarys dejai

“I doubt that you think of me as I think of you. I doubt that you even think of me at all...”

—from an unsent letter, amarys dejai

10:44PM // Today was difficult.

BAPTISM // I’ve never been religious, but when I first saw you I fell to my knees and silently prayed for your eyes to hold my gaze just once.

—from a journal entry, AMARYS DEJAI

And I am tired, so very tired. | amarys dejai