Death (She/Her) Prefers to Be Called Dee


Dee is the one inside the blanket fort with the flashlight, who laughs at my joke about chickens - it is funny
she likes to argue about whether jelly or Nutella works better in a sandwich with peanut butter - jelly
     and picks her cuticles until they bleed whenever she’s bored.    she listens to the same music as me, da da da da da - 
I love that song
when it’s time to say goodbye, she always says
‘remember, Susie-Q, tomorrow you're one day closer,’ but what she really means is ‘I love you’
     she's from Oklahoma, still has cow manure on her boots to prove it
     she’s the one who told me every plan is also a prayer, and I believed her, so I made many
she smells like a version of my own spicy earth, sass and all, 
and hates water because it reminds her of that violin playing "Like a Bridge Over Troubled Water" 
     'such a cliche,' she says, rolling her eyes.
     she tries to reassure me:
‘Girl, let them dress you and sit you by the front door with a lit cigarette,
so grand, but you’ll never notice.
     or be scattered by vultures and wind after they’ve chopped you into pieces’
     - that one feels most realistic to me
'I think I prefer a New Orleans second line,
but feel free to make beads from my ashes,  
     and wear them around your neck while you dance. 
     I'll never notice,' I say, knowing I will, and the thought of it makes me smile.

Hollie Ziskind's work has been featured in Swimming with Elephants, Meniscus Journal, Chrysalis, The Stardust Review and Red Noise Collective. She has completed one poetry collection and is currently working on her first collection of short stories.