Quinquennium – Annaliese Wysse Feininger

They couldn’t believe
it was only one weekend together.

Seventy-two hours?

Agreed, dipping the rhythm
of their feet into a steady

She liked the way her
hair looked –
sprinkled by the rain and

The way her lips tasted different
after they’d been touched
by his.

The type of liquor that could blur your vision
by simply seeping into your closed, cracked skin:


She said she never understood
moderation, that perhaps that
was a flaw of her entire

Lacking awareness
of superlatives.

“I’m moving to

“And just like that,
The prettiest city in Canada
gets even prettier.”


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