Issue 08
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we buy cherry icees / at the little country store on the corner / because there’s no one to say we can’t / and they match the red ribbon in my hair. / the icy fizz / coats my tongue with a sweet redness / my smile tinted scarlet / like when i / fell while roller skating / and bit my tongue so hard i / tasted copper for weeks. / we sit on the hood of my car / chrome just below burning / and drink our icees while the summer sun beats down. / there’s a certain camaraderie in what we do / the day trips to different parks / or the yankee candle store in williamsburg / the big one with the / fudge and the caramel popcorn and the custom / wax molds. / we don’t talk about college / or the breakdowns / or last night when i / cried for three hours straight / and said i couldn’t do it anymore / and you said i / had to. / i don’t want to. / i want to be free. / i want to leave this place / that has never done anything good for us. / i want to go home but we / can’t. so for now / we just sit together on the hood of my car / and drink cherry icees. |
| Eliza Fuller is an undergraduate creative writing and classical studies at Hollins University in Roanoke, Virginia. She’s a sophomore from Wake Forest, North Carolina– not the university! | |