For Cheslie Kyrst

You awake
before dawn.
You awake
even if you feel like
you’re carrying all of New York City
on your back. Time
to wash your face.
Look in the mirror.
Cringe at the tiniest
forming wrinkles.
You want to efface
yourself, instead,
scrub your skin raw.
Failure claws at your windows.
Your black heels
are blocks of granite.
You live alone single.
The open space
of your condominium
unleashes a herd
of wild horses.
You have emails
to respond to,
a manager to report to,
another flight to catch.
Emergency? Call
mom. Never mind.
Tired, you hear
a clock ticking.
Think to yourself––
Am I even relevant?
Go run on a treadmill,
cry, then pose,
forego a smile.
When you do smile,
smile as if joy
is not a dead fly. [click]
Now, schedule your outfits,
your Instagram posts,
your TikTok videos.
Time to show your fans
your closets,
your sponsored gifts,
your replica of the crown.
Be prompt. You have
scheduled appearances. Keep up
with appearances.
Be camera-ready.
Be camera-ready again
and again. Use emojis
to communicate. Buffer
the edges so no one sees you are constantly on the edge.
On this morning,
the sun is lurking,
the breeze bitterly cold.
A young star fades.
From the twenty-fifth floor,
asphalt is not asphalt,
but a bouquet of roses,
roses given after a win.
42nd Street holds
your pageant sash.
Go, tell yourself––
May this day
bring you rest and peace.

Contributor Notes

Thea Matthews is the author of GRIME (City Lights Books, 2025) and Unearth [The Flowers] (Red Light Lit Press, 2020), which was named one of Kirkus Reviews’ Best Indie Poetry Books of 2020. Her writing has appeared in The Atlantic, ZYZZYVA, The Cortland Review, Colorado Review, The Common, Obsidian: Literature & Arts in the African Diaspora, The Massachusetts Review, The New Republic, Alta Journal, On the Seawall, among others. Thea attained her MFA from New York University in 2022, and currently teaches at Columbia University. Originally from San Francisco, Thea lives in Brooklyn, New York.

Photo Credit-Coskun Caglayan