Carolene Kurien

DEAR GERALD,

I hope this poem finds you well.
I believe if I read these words aloud
they will land in your heart like pounding snow.
When the leaves fell red in the dying
times I held you very close, your arms
slipping from me like an oiled baby, your breath
like car exhaust on my cheek. I know now
that to be unfavored by God is to be robbed
of such touch. You must understand, Gerald,
that I have always handled love’s leftovers
coldly. I could have kept you at that patisserie
a bit longer. I could have answered when you asked
if I missed you or if it’s empty space I dislike.
I have no regrets. In my dreams the sun breaks
like yolk on your face. You are both sad
and happy. I had nothing to do with either of it.

CAROLENE KURIEN is a Malayali-American poet from South Florida. Her work has garnered support and recognition from MacDowell, the Kenyon Review Writers Workshops, the Miami Book Fair Emerging Writer Fellowship, and Poetry Society UK. A Tennessee Williams Scholar in Poetry for the 2025 Sewanee Writers' Conference, her poems have been published or are forthcoming in Poetry London, RHINO, Sixth Finch, The Florida Review, The Cincinnati Review, Southeast Review, and elsewhere. You can learn more at carolenekurien.com.