Illustration by Dora O’Neill
Gather all your tears up and place them on your fridge with a magnet.
Humanness is captured in shrines
As too the lines
Near my eyes or my belly.
I become urns
And scorn the libraries burnt
By the chrysanthemums outside
That grow up their sides.
Icarus flowers whose design’s
Are too mouthy and unknown to
Ever be worth it.
The mirror lacks flowers, just lines dismissed,
Or perhaps kissed!
Or perhaps the mirror is ocean; sky.
Leif Wood is a sophomore at Columbia College studying English and Philosophy. He is a big fan of words and trees.