dear oliver,
your body heaved itself
against the rough mattress
as your eyes glistened with
eagerness.
i saw how you reached for
the book against the nightstand,
your fingers curling around the
edges.
i pulled the chair next to the bed,
it creaked along the way as i
dragged it to our lives.
“let’s read,” you smiled.
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...
