after afternoon, again. beyond bitter blue breaths careful cars, closing clouds, clutching college-colored darkness. each early ending, feeling flat, fleeting, flimsy. getting gloomier. going home,
I thought I was ready so I put my wheels to the asphalt and pushed off halfway down the hill I feel panic rise in
raindrops peel themselves from the bottom of your boots then launch through the air and back onto your ankles, notice the way cigarettes fit so
It started with a bulb. Grasped by soft fingertips. Mama helped me scrape open the hole Three times deep and cover it With chopped leaves
I’ve run out of ways to tell you I love you, so I’ll just say this: you are the smell of the fresh mint growing
Gladioli cut curbside crop lines Compulsion, revulsion, grassy submission Plucking familiarity in silence, stalks of pink Ivy sprig of white tendrils: anxious to please Maiden
she is nowhere and everywhere all at once, as inescapable as the smell of morning coffee clinging to the fabric of a well-worn sweater, lingering
I am awoken rays of sunlight seep inside I can breathe again morning air is swift like the icicles on trail winter’s gleaming blades the
late in new hampshire, leah teaches me to swim. “my house is your home—” the light pouring in, the window and its sunbeams: humble, open
Grandpa, I’m sorry I only visited your home in Libya twice before you left and didn’t come back. The days melted away quicker than gifted
lust I lay on the ground, my hands under my chin. the blades of grass sway as the breeze tussles them. liberated (from my subconscious)
I was walking across campus during Community Day and I had just picked up an Arabic quiz from Olin in which I proved to absolutely
View More