Pretend by Elizabeth Gomez
Let’s pretend that we are alone,
That only the two of us are here.
The shroud of people muttering nonsense
And sucking the air from our throats,
Slowly absorbed by the City’s placid buildings.
Let’s pretend that we have fallen in love,
Are running away, fleeing to freedom
Where no one can take us from each other
Where we can shout obscenities into the open air
And only hear the echoes fall and clink, clank against the ground
Let’s pretend that we are two astronauts
Bobbing through the universe plucking the stars
And picnicking on the moon.
We’ll bounce around and waft brightly,
Like pyrosomes blazing under the deep blue sea.
Let’s pretend that we are dying,
Hand in wrinkled hand,
Your breath on my cheek, slow and fading,
Our eyes locked, knowing and wondering,
Our souls intertwined, exploring, becoming.
We are pleased to announce that this is our 100th post for Drinkers with Writing Problems. This project was started by six people who wanted to practice the art of writing while giving each other support and feedback. Our mission has been to encourage each writer to go further and be accountable to meet certain personal goals each person has set. It is very exciting to be able to say that we’ve made it through our first 100 posts!
Some future plans for DWWP is to add more depth to the website by sharing columns and events that will serve as a resource for other writers; to include a few new guest writers; and to produce a live literary show of some sort. We hope you’ll continue to follow us via facebook, twitter @DWWPChicago or simply subscribe to our blog. Thank you for your support!