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