dear oliver,
ring. ring. phone call.
shuffle. shuffle.
you don’t pick up.
dial. dial. hurry, please.
no, it’s too late. it has
sent me to voicemail.
where are you?
because my heart
feels empty.
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...
lxxx.
dear oliver,
ring. ring. phone call.
shuffle. shuffle.
you don’t pick up.
dial. dial. hurry, please.
no, it’s too late. it has
sent me to voicemail.
where are you?
because my heart
feels empty.
quinn