KELLY BOYKER

And Then the Sunlight Shone Straight Through Her

In each episode we perform without her, she fades just a little more.  Ever so pale, standing just within our peripheral vision, water lapping behind her eyes. Sometimes we catch her peering through a set window, biting the air and chittering at imaginary birds. Other times she stands at the edge of a scene, waiving from the oyster beds, rocking back and forth on her heels.  It is as if she must swim an impossibly long distance to reach us.  

The next season our outstretched fingers pass through her to the set curtains. We continue our scenes, performing as though she is here.  Salt water foams at the shore. We rehearse her blocking, memorize the paths she would walk between us, leaving spaces in our conversations where she should speak. We are filled with regret, performing the final scenes without her.  Our faces flicker like moths. We press fingers to our own wrists to confirm pulse. The waves roll in, catastrophically. 

Kelly Boyker’s work has appeared or shall appear in many places, including PANK, Waxwing Poetry Journal, Atticus Review, Prick of the Spindle, FRiGG, Pretty Owl Poetry, Vinyl Poetry, and others. She has received a number of award nominations (Best New Poets, Pushcart, Best of the Net), but no actual awards. Her work has been included in print anthologies in the U.S.A. and Canada, has been translated and published in Italian, and has been made into small films. Her chapbook Zoonosis (Hyacinth Girl Press) was listed by Entropy as one of the best sixteen poetry books published in 2014. In her free time she enjoys gardening, food science, and gaming.