2nd Place
‘God’s Paintbrush’ by Jocelyn Mosman
I am sitting at a coffee shop,
reading poetry.
You walk in
with a new partner
and pretend you don’t see me.
Your head bent over,
hers on your shoulder,
hands intertwining
like colors run together,
like God had a paintbrush
and was creating the masterpiece
of screw you’s to my love life.
From here I can see
your lungs working
overtime to keep
your breathing controlled,
the rise and fall of each rib,
like Rome was built
on top of your
promises.
I’m sitting behind you,
glaring.
Your body never
fails you,
steadfast, like you have
an addiction
to looking straight ahead.
Splotches of red
soak your face,
like God created war paint
for all the battles you fought
to get here.
I remember our hands,
clasping,
our palms outstretched
with lifelines touching.
We were never meant
to have our futures read.
I can’t be brought back
to the origins
of who we were.
When you first looked
at me…
you in a Spider-Man mask…
dragging me into Bath and Body Works…
kissing me and kissing me until
I couldn’t see…
Rating our sex life on a scale
of 1 to 10…
telling me to choose
between college and you…
two years of radio silence…
an affair…
Oh, how I used to believe you…
You and those freckles,
that face, that smile,
that ugly jacket…
You ruined my one attempt
at a love life.
My love life?
Two broken pieces of asphalt
disintegrating from under me.
Can you not hear me crumble,
or are you ignoring the collapse?
BIO: Jocelyn Mosman is an English and Politics double major at Mount Holyoke College, but is attending the University of Kent this fall. She was a member of the first ever Northampton Poetry Slam Team and is the recipient of the Gertrude Claytor Award from the Academy of American Poets. She has been published in numerous anthologies and literary magazines and is currently working on her third poetry collection.
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