by Giovanni Centeno
I have a snow globe
the size of a dark corner for two
it’s filled with the taste of late night egg sandwich
it glows with soft neon light
it smells of urine and hot salted peanuts
Look closely and you’ll see it still hums
Shake it and feel
the static of purple night electricity
clinging to your fingertips
the cold of park bench dew
slowly soak through your jacket
the creeping daylight
and a slight dizzy headache
I froze all these moments in a bubble
a warm whiskey hiccup
I wasn’t in love with you
but I’ll keep it on the shelf
by Rukayat Bello
I held your hand,
As the day waned to the imminent dusk
As the little faith, prayers and sacred text no longer consoled me
As the vitality pumping through your veins became a stand still
As ice crept across, subduing the warmth of your fingertips
As you softly breathed the words "I'm sorry"
As you relinquished the worries of the world, going gently into that night
You held my hand,
As you sheltered me from life's gales but never the truth
As I transitioned into womanhood
As I worked towards reclaiming a resemblance of Libra balance
As I mastered the skills as your apprentice with the tools provided
As I pursued several endeavors, with you as my coach
As you witnessed me in all phases : no signs of conscious life, me living, and my lost desire to live
We hold hands,
As I nourish my soul with every savory meal I prepare.
As I stumble down the road less traveled
As your parting wisdom pushes me to finish the race
As I examine features in the mirror--my fingers, my lips, my face
As I realize gradually that I am a product of your prayers and reflection
As I see your reflected image in me
Our hands still hold,
Although most, by now, would have already released their grasp
As I am unsure that I can ever let go.
For as long as I can recall,
We've always held hands.
P + J by Cristian Pintor
and two syllables:
It begins with his jade green eyes,
it continues with his orange Parkside High School hoodie,
then the scent of his Calvin Klein Euphoria cologne,
and his Yeezy obsession,
These are what makes Joey, Joey.
at 11:30AM during lunch
across the room,
and a desk ahead in history.
Then its Pete plus Joey,
over and over again.
Inside a blotched black heart,
next to AP calc notes.
at the baseball game,
and who lives a couple of houses down the street,
Joey at prom with Anna.
Pete plus Joey, again,
Scratched against metal.
Underneath pictures of Elon Musk
and Columbia University.
If it only really were Pete plus Joey,
not scribbled on notebook paper,
not hidden under idols and goals,
but in the middle of the hallway
between history and calc,
for everyone to see (Anna)
Pete plus Joey.