As Us

A Space for Writers of the World

Celeste Adame – Poetry

Nothing on the First Night


She asked me to walk to the end of the ocean,
outstretched hands hold a single grain of sand
we would magnify this on closer inspection
———see this is all we needed to prove
though books have been written between you and I,

they had nothing on the first
night we went out as a couple,
———how we neglected to bring enough money
———or a decent coat to keep us warm
the walk down Juan Tabo to Central,
———where we’d stop at 7-2-11 to warm up,
———sharing: small coffee and hot
dog, back in cold, we held hands
peering to drivers hoping someone would
—————pick us up.

Arriving to Greyhound, neither had the energy
or desire to run and stop the bus to Santa Fe,
we fell asleep on benches
not caring how we looked
———upon arrival to campus,
———we fell over on your twin sized bed and slept until dinner.


You walked into class as the soft-spoken teacher bought us through a maze of nonsensical numbers. I looked at you momentarily and my pen fell from my fingers on the table, where’d I’d stare because if I didn’t I would have gotten lost: air surrounding you and the small smile you’d have when you were confused. The two of us made up a fifth of the class. And though not a single word escaped our lips to one another, I held conversations with you in the back of my mind. I noticed the sun felt different on my skin, when I left class that day on my walk back to my room, where I fell on my bed and thought about you and how I wished I knew your name. Santa Anas sent tumbleweeds past my dorm window; I’d stare past guys playing basketball hoping for a glimpse of you. I found you one night, sleeping on the loveseat in the computer lab.


I woke to find the ring I’d given you removed
placed on cloud we slow danced to music.

Celeste Adame HeadShotCeleste Adame, Muckleshoot, is happy to report that she’s a member of the inaugurating class of the “Low-Rez” MFA program at the Institute of American Indian Arts in Santa Fe, New Mexico. In the sixth grade she told herself that she’d one day have a Master’s Degree and she’s chasing that dream. She’s been published in the Santa Fe Literary Review, Yellow Medicine Review and numerous Institute of American Indian Arts anthologies, Bone Light, Radical Enjambment, Fish Head Soup and Voyeurs of War. When not writing or working, she can often be found in the company of her family. Being the second oldest of 8 children from her mom, she’s always made it a point for her younger siblings to have someone to look up to, because she is someone who wasn’t afraid to chase their dream and succeed in doing so.

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