Here's What I Remember

here's what i remember:
you teach me how to light a match.

i heat water in the microwave for
lukewarm tea in the middle of the day

and the ants march solemnly
back and forth between the cabinets

and the birds pause to rest on
the undulating bridge of a power line

and the air conditioner groans
and clicks to life like clockwork

and there's a certain smell that hangs
from the walls of this borrowed room

and my car sits still and lifeless
at an angle on the asphalt

and my favorite mug tastes like
sugar and ceramic and self-isolation

and my father comes home
every day around noon and i spend

each moment bathed in the knowledge
that your call will come when i ask

and i'm so sorry for the world with
all of its icy uncertainty and blinking turn signals

but i learned to light a match today.
and i'm glad i exist.

Hollie Sikes is a writer, musician and design student currently finishing a degree in architecture at The University of Tennessee in Knoxville. She released a zine of poetry titled “i’m afraid of you but i love you” in 2020 and an EP titled “The Cynic” in 2021. Her work has appeared in The Pigeon Parade Quarterly. Some of her other work can be found at holliesikes.weebly.com.