A Week from Which Beauty Has Been Erased

Days don’t make sense so I’ve been counting showers. There’s fewer of them. It’s been four showers which I’m told is a week but I’ve always been distrustful of consensus. Everyone agreed upon the bedroom, the bags of ice and shivering wet embraces, the flowers on the floor. Everyone agrees a week has gone by but it hasn’t gone anywhere at all.









S. Preston Duncan is a caregiver, BBQist, and End of Life Doula in Richmond, Virginia. Recent aspirations include becoming the Jason Isbell of literature, stealing Death’s laughter, and transcendental pimento cheese. He is the former Senior Editor of local arts and culture publication, RVA Magazine. His poetry has appeared or been selected to appear in Tulane Review, Circle Show, Levee Magazine, Unstamatic, Coffin Bell Journal, and the Yardstick Books "Water” anthology.

See more of his work in 7.3 and here