Isaiah Denver

Live is a Wake

    His writing desk, in the evening, came with an open window and light rain. He saw memories fall along his window sill, the beach, moving in, the first day without her. 

    At the wake, his ebon gaze fixed on the body, eyes tasting the palpability of the truth after the body had turned unvarnished, leaving a spent angel smoldering from her once rippling, ricocheting lips. 

    Memories fall, rain as their armor. Nearby parks, sidewalks, markets, his window sill drenched with them. He is a stranger to the feelings which begin to sweep over his eyes.

    She once said, tell me with your eyes what you say is true. She wanted to get the measurements quite right, so he told her who he was. He is hers. Was. In the morning, far away, anywhere, he was hers. He was the one she'd chosen to stay with when she left New York.

    He was the one laying in the summer air, feet speckled with sand, yards away from the ocean tide, while she was beside him nipping his chin.

    Memories fall like rain, a fierce chill. He stands, much older, and closes the glass panes, returning to his writing desk in the evening.

digital multimedia zine

independent publisher

community for emerging artists

Isaiah Denver is a 23 year old English student at Central Washington University. The passion for writing grew during high school, when he’d spend his weekends competing in original prose and poetry competitions. His senior year, he made it to the California State Forensics Competition Semi-Finals, ranking in the top 30. While he enjoys writing workshops, city walks, and time in nature, Isaiah spends most of his time figuring out how to tell stories. He lives in Woodinville, Washington.