The cover image was drawn by Natalie Garcia as part of our collaboration with the MHS Youth Arts Movement Club
i.
you have gone rogue / in the savannah. / you bathe in rosewater / as monks comb your hair and blossoms float / from the crown of dogwood. / you sing louder than the wind / that sweeps across grasslands
ii.
and still, i remember you. / in those days, even when / we cloaked ourselves in light / and prayed that it would hide us / we could not avoid the shadows / of our flaws, the way they only grew starker / while the light blinded us. / now, i look for footprints / that i can trace back to you, but there is nothing / on the grounds where we used to walk. / i try to relearn this willow as just a willow / this blue, this house, this moon. / i upturn stones. / i cartograph the migration patterns of birds. / i draw the constellations inverted. / how does it feel to weep / without thinking of you? how does it / feel?
iii.
another summer. this time, the stones are silent. / i have stopped trying to / decipher the habits of wild birds / and yes, even the sky forgets / the face of those who split it open. / i hear your name / without hearing my own. / someday, i will say it / and it won’t sound like / come back.
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