dear oliver,
i was shocked
when you came
to school the
following day.
you still looked
awful, the bags
underneath your
eyes haven’t faded
nor returned.
you walked by
me, and in your
hand hung a
p a p e r b a g,
with nemo’s face
smiling.
you pulled
me to the side
of the hallway,
whispered,
“okay, dory.”
and then swam.
quinn
YOU ARE READING
zero
PoetryQuinn scribbles tainted emotions across thin layers of white paper. But to who? To someone who blinks once, sees her, and blinks again-just to make her disappear. To someone who sees her as a symbol of the ocean. To someone who thinks the ocean is...
