Photo by Kaylie Tanella

Honey

by Gabby Argento

As soon as I saw

the golden-brown honey

drip from your fingertips,

I knew I was about to be stung.

Introductions are in Order

by Jacob Maglies

I am the shadow that is just out of view!

I am the bump that you hear in the night!

I am the monster under your bed!

I am that feeling when like your thigh is itchy

so you try to scratch it but you’re wearing jeans so you can’t actually scratch it that well, so you try just wiggling around grinding your legs together to get it.

Sorry who are you again?

Photo by Marley Kinsman-D'Augustine

Photo by Jackie Gonzalez

God vs. You

by Sienna Grinwald-Alves

I’ve got nuns in my head

Sermons bleeding from my bed

Polished singing, dried up dead

In my head.

And rabbis light candles in their hands,

Sit round and tell stories of the camps—

They’re the chosen people, so why are so many of them dead,

In my head?

And the nuns and the rabbis they both pray to a god that has treated them like frauds

They claim to be guests in his house, but they run like slaves

Glancing over their shoulders, reading their rule books, dead in their graves,

In my head?

Intro To Theoretical Love

by Jacob Maglies

I’m trying to matter to myself,

I’m over here doing my own thing, making things work,

Yeah it’s held together with duct tape and hope,

But it’s mine, and I love it, and it’s mine, not yours, can you understand that?

Thank you for the concern, really, I liked it, I put it on a shelf, next to the last one,

But I was under the impression, it was gift, not a loan,

This is mine, and I need it, and it’s mine, get your own, let go, let go, let go,

I’m sorry that I made you cry.

You just stick to your own thing, and I’ll stick to mine,

And if mine falls apart, then I guess that’s on me, and me alone.

Photo by Kaylie Tanella

Drawing by Sienna Grinwald-Alves

In the Bag

by Jared Pesciotta

A bag of candy,

unexceptional, nondescript candy

each piece is the same

and no difference is noticed

Are people like candy in a bag?

if you picked someone out of a crowd

would you see them for their differences

or would you see them like candy?

unexceptional, nondescript candy

Are the things that make people unique

visible to the eye

or are they visible to the soul?

are they noticeable at all?

are humans truly unique

or do we just want to believe we are not just

unexceptional, nondescript candy?

Photo by Hannah Drew

if slow and steady really wins the race

by Madhavi Steinert

bullet shot into the sky

just shy of perpendicular

sends the hare running

as fast as he can without

looking back, until he does,

and the rearview shows the

tortoise has barely moved

beyond where the sound barrier

broke. the august shade coaxed

the hare’s eyes shut, there, beneath

the willow off the side of the track,

having spent himself completely

before the white chalk could slip

under his body. didn’t the air

make it hard to breathe? didn’t

he feel so heavy? eyelids carrying

the burden of the finish line, but

missing the drive to cross it. didn’t

the tortoise creep up on him? like

his shadow as the day died?

when i say i am both the hare and

the tortoise, i mean i have seen

the shade of the willow and the

sweat rolling off my back. love

has been the sand slipping through

my fingers and the blisters sprouting

from my soles all at once. nothing

good has ever come to those who

sit and wait for it to fall in their lap;

god always has his right hand deep

in his pocket, careful to not let a

penny slip through his denim seams.

i promise myself to live slowly,

gently keeping pace, eyes alert

and ready for the copper face up.

maybe that means i’m lucky, to

even be looking in the first place,

refusing to be blind for love.

some people never find their way

back to the sun; they simply run

circles in the dark, crashing and

burning, until the flame has

nothing left to char. the tortoise

never ran out of breath.

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