Somewhere by Abigail Ray

Somewhere, there is a candle on a coffee table. And you are next to it. 

Somewhere there is a candle and you are nearby.

Somewhere there is an open flame and that's where I live, 

in the space between the blackened wick and the orange glow. 

If you stare into the light long enough you'll see me staring back at you, 

asking what all this space is for, 

and if I'm giving off enough heat 

to keep you warm.

Somewhere by Abigail Ray

Abigail Ray is a writer from Portland, Oregon, and has been published in Same Faces Collective, Maudlin House, and Call Me Brackets, among others. She recently graduated with her Bachelor’s in English and writing from Portland State University. She primarily writes poetry, lyrical essays, and experimental fiction about loser-core women that are definitely not poorly disguised projections of herself, no matter what people are saying.