When I hold my phone all night, I don’t feel like Lorca.

I do, however, hear audio messages of your laughter.

I think Lorca would say something about a fruit’s heart.

I have eaten a plate of apple pie and vanilla ice cream.

I can’t possibly think of poems right now, but I can

hear laughter; the moon bends a branch towards me.

Header illustration by Phoebe Nerem