By summer, they would bear heavy fruit. Red, ripe, and gleaming like truth finally unearthed. The neighbors would marvel and say the soil here must be special.
Category Archive: Issue #4
Hands full of nothing, placed in their ever growing pile.
Still, when he smiles at you the next day, for just a moment, your chest opens. The sun catches the glass of the kitchen window and turns everything gold. It doesn’t last, but it’s enough.
Lachesis, your Icarus has fallen
But, Sisters, notice how the sea isn’t sullen
He hasn’t reached for his wings, wax and strings of a toy
For he’s found locus amoenus with this boy
I think I’m falling in love with you.
Now that I drown in Autumn’s descending light, do you find me repulsive, unbearable to glimpse at?
Sometimes you feel that love is the kind of thing you have to get good at.
Before you were dust, you were the
universe.
I had tumbled and fought my way through a seemingly endless path, but I had somehow reached a dead end.
I began to wonder if I had been relegated to live in complete and utter isolation from any and all genuine connection.