December
by Nika Burnett
After summoning the courage to Zelle my landlord
The first of nine flights took off in morning dark.
“I travel a lot for work”
I coo to the men I don’t want to commit to.
Film sets are mercurial and romantic.
Being the only woman in the room is deadly
For someone.
The Keys are humid even in December
And remind me of my mother’s chosen home.
It’s further now.
She did that on purpose.
I had my first Welsh Rarebit
Shivered under the Golden Gate.
Exposed film when my fingers could feel enough to fire.
Zipped up my bag again and again
And again I watched the year end from the nape of a man’s neck.
I committed a felony, yet undiscovered.
Got drunk after crying in the basement of a St. Louis bar.
At a funeral we gave the Beloved a round of applause
My sternum can still feel.
I drunk texted someone that night who I only knew for 12 hours
Because death reminds us that we don’t have time to be coy.
His name in my phone is now “no”
Because life reminds us that we are never above the fear of rejection.
A book appeared on my porch one day
Because anything can happen.
And will.
People think they know December.
Family and candles and roasted everything.
Imagine you knew nothing but what was right in front of you.
Imagine it was January.
Imagine it was me.
above: Kodak Gold 200 - Travis Marina Bar | Dec 2025
“Being the only woman in the room is deadly
For someone.”
above: Seven Mile Bridge, Florida Keys | Dec 2025
“The Keys are humid even in December”
above: Kodak Gold 200 - Travis Marina Bar | Dec 2025
“Shivered under the golden gate.”
above: Kodak Gold 200 - Mt. Shasta | Dec 2025
“Exposed film when my fingers could feel enough to fire.”
Above: Double Exposure project with Davi Russo LA / Japan — 100 Fujifilm | 2025
“Because death reminds us that we don’t have time to be coy.”
above: Kodak Gold 200 - Los Feliz, CA | Dec 2025
“People think they know December
Family and candles and roasted everything.”
Above: Double Exposure project with Davi Russo LA / Japan — 100 Fujifilm | 2025
“Imagine it was me.”
This was awesome Nika
Nika. Every line. This is my favorite poem of yours. I’m printing it out.