by Audrey Molnar '19
an eruption of all things beautiful, of your grandma’s wedding band, a japanese chestnut, full bloom, you will find yourself begging to hold them all again. and they will leak down a mountain, slowly, still watch with open eyes before they soften into the arid earth. she said with each ache she thought she was going ill she waited for the rail ing before the climb. she slept for a week and held a grudge on something, and she called her son. hours across a breaking bridge and she was asleep again.