The same bone bristled hands I kissed
             dry and stretched thin by the many years
your eyes watered over,
             distilled as they were by the moonshine
my heart lies half-awake in the dark
             asking,
what else are you hungry for?

barely a stub of your cigarette left
             and no moon out our
window to console us

you sang quietly—humming, half-heartedly
             crooning like a cuckoo
almost inhaling the last long note

this dream—we recall together—
             worn and needled into
our skin, catches us before we sleep:

             we wither—
                          away to the bone
             darling—
                          into bones, into the trees

Erica Faundo’s “Saudade” won third prize in 2015 in the Third Annual
School of Visual Arts Writing Program Contest. She is an Illustration major who
was born in New York and raised in California. She has this to say about herself: “I love to draw full-time, and write part-time. A few of my favorite authors on my bookshelf include Sherman Alexie, Gary Soto, and Maya Angelou.”