"SKIN STUDIES; AGNES; UNTITLED" - GREER TURNER, '20
"Rolled Pearl Curtain" - Yuwan Zhang, '20
"The Last Light" - Yuwan Zhang, '20
"Tourists" - Eliza Owen-Smith, '20
"Copper", "Brambles", "Little Line People" - Eliza Owen-Smith, '20
Copper
They told me I would float away unless I filled my fists with pennies, listened to whatever they had to say. I’m scared of heights so I searched for pennies everywhere– ran into the road while cars challenged me, stopped in the middle of the sidewalk while people angrily stared and dodged me. But they must understand; they had to find their pennies too. I would even pick them up heads down, despite the warnings. I’m not afraid of a little bad luck– just heights. But I got tired of being so weighed down all the time. The copper tainted my hands. For awhile, I only drank blood. I saw other girls float away and I wanted to be like them. One by one, I let my pennies fall face down. I passed my bad luck right back to them and let my feet lift off the ground. I’m only a little bit scared of heights, after all. |
Brambles
I’m sorry that I shied away from you that night Inside me I was constantly unsticking my shirt from the thorns in the brambles in my yard only to get my sock stuck next then my jeans I had to tend to the matter at hand you know how it is And I’m sorry that I was too busy tending the garden to listen to you talk about real life and the seriousness of it all because I didn’t want you to scare my plants I heard they grow better to sweet nothings like I do But I promise you that when I heard you talk about graying hair and maybe a cat or two and the couch that we can take that your dad no longer needs my cheeks turned a shade bright enough to put my cherry willow to shame I rocked up on my tippy toes hands interlocked like a child smiling to myself when you told me you imagined our future like this sitting together drinking morning coffee pressing pause on everything else to just be and I was flustered by the realness of it all so I pretended I was reaching for a plum just ripe enough |
Little Line People
The little line people take one look at me and Turn their heads. I’m embarrassed because they don’t like me. I’m not one of them. They place themselves on the wall so cooly, smoothed and spread out against it– I can’t be like them. I try to impress them, appease them, Look! I can be flat like you! I am one of you! And I suck everything in and take a deep breath and do my best to disappear into shapes and just a singular black outline. The color fades from my face, my cheeks no longer flushed from my earlier shame and my clothes lose their boldness to match the whites of the wall. But the little line people say nothing, Just blink their empty circular eyes. |