I’m supposed to write this about conversation, which is funny because sometimes I think I am most at ease when I am not speaking at all. With Tufts over-enrolling so many students each year, I have routinely felt like our campus is devoid of spaces draped with thick, insulating silence into which to settle in.
I awaken with wars in my mind. I am nineteen / oblivious, I massage words into my skin like the rose oil my mother slipped
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