Josephine Mara Shepherd When I first met you, there were stars embedded in your legs. I could not stop running my fingers over the nets that held them there, against your soft skin. Our glitter begs to be noticed, not condemned. And you kissed me by the photobooth, intoxicated and intoxicating both. A mirror to my reckless soul. I tried to catch you in a verse, But such a form could not contain the beauty that you held there or the crossing of your eyes. When I first met you, I crossed my star-struck heart. And hoped we’d never die.
23 | Spring 2022