zlatý dážď [golden rain]

By KristÍna Coggin

i’ve always called you “môje zlatičko,” and you ask me every few weeks to remind you what it means. a language that formed my soul, much like you. the language of my heart. mixing and changing between the two worlds of my personality, but always with you.

the streets of my mind are lined with zlatý dážď. i walk with you amidst oceans of yellow. petals bloom and fall, creating a yellow cobblestone road. together we stroll these streets of heaven, and light seems infinite.

but sometimes i trip on the cracks. and darkness closes in and the corpses of my past crawl out of my grave with ravenous hunger and rancorous greed and the cold of my mind creeps out to my blurred edges and the whites of my eyes go gray and my fingertips go numb and my eyesight is failing– but i see you, vivid through the smog. môje zlatičko. and you shower down on me like golden rain.