“The Atmosphere I Miss” by Sarah Thursday

At this point, it’s not him
I miss, not his back of
red-brown constellations,


but my own atmosphere
I knew naked in front
of his flat screen TV.


It’s not his goose-neck
car, orange and black
enormity, but the happy


surrender of the passenger
seat, not driving, not
road-thinking. Clear-minded,


I miss not making plans
on Saturdays and on
Sunday mornings. It’s not


his tongue, or its softness,
but the fullness of my
mouth at its opening.







Sarah Thursday was mostly raised in Long Beach, California. She teaches 4th and 5th grade, is obsessed with music, and has only recently dove into poetry again. She has forthcoming or has been published in The Long Beach Union (CSULB), The Atticus Review, Eunoia Review, East Jasmine Review, The Camel Saloon, poeticdiversity, Chaparral, and Pyrokinection. Recently, she has become the editor of Cadence Collective: Long Beach Poets, almost by accident, but completely on purpose.  sarahthursday.com