Noon-ish
EMILY BUCCIONI
I remember it still, we were sipping homemade iced tea in the bright kitchen, smell of spring locked out on the porch. She said what’s your favourite feeling and I said this, tulips in bloom in the suburbs, my skin zipped up to my throat like it actually fits. Love, or whatever, or the promise of better things to come.
7 ADINA TURKONJE