You buy flowers wondering where she has gone. The answer might not be something you can handle. Instead, you cling to images you know well, moments that feature a person instead of a body. There are nights when you panic because some memories don’t come as easily as before. They can no longer be reconstructed, but marble with emotion or color. Every year, older ones slip away—sucked down and under, like brittle crust at the ocean floor. You try not to think about that, either.
What is the significance of this work to you?
For me, both poems are a study in grief. They’re about yearning and the unknown. As I get older, the pain of loss seems to grow sharper, not gentler.
What is the significance of the form you chose for this work?
“A Thread” is my attempt at a type of poetry called the nonet. They’re nine-line poems, with the first line containing nine syllables, the next eight, etc. I hoped that the nonet form would capture a certain sense of inevitability. In “Song of the Drowned,” I chose free verse to try and use uneven beats. I didn’t want the rhythm to be contained by a set style.
What was your process for creating this work?
I wish I had a better answer. When it comes to writing, it’s usually me in front of the computer, listening to music and struggling to put feelings into words.
Alyssa Jordan is a writer living in the United States. She pens literary horoscopes for F(r)iction Series. Her stories can be found or are forthcoming in X–R-A-Y Literary Magazine, LEON Literary Review, and more. In 2020, she won The Molotov Cocktail's Flash Monster contest. You can find her on Twitter @ajordan901 or Instagram @ajordanwriter.