Zine - Valentine's 2022

fr ( e,p/ lowercase volume 5, issue 2

And by the time il was over I could finally put into words the feeling of apprehensively unwrapping myself While you- like a fussy toddler picked out tiny pieces of 1ne To satisfy your sweet tooth Your eyes only ever briefly glossed over the nutrition labels Your stomach held just enough space to crave the sweetness I could fleetingly offer And once the last square n1elted onto your tongue You lavished it But il wasn't enough Frustration filled your guts when n1y wrapper got stuck around your restless hands "I 111ant 1nore"

By: O/yrnpia Victor

"Pu1npkin spice is oh so nice," she says, to the back of my head.

I think I 1night hate her.

"But when the leaves fall, they get rid of those flavors."

I'll be the one to have her meet her maker.

"Next autumn I'11 be trying something new."

Funny she says that, she won't make it past winter.

"They said if you add fertilizer, it'll decompose quicker," continues the girl sitting before me.

The one dressed for 1ne, who came for 1ne.

I tum. "That's kind of gross," I mutter, not wanting to say much more.

Because if I say a another word, I won't be able to hear what the women at the other table is saying to hi1n.

Hiln, who is not 1ne.

On this Friday winter evening, where there is one more table t1lled then there needs to be.

By: Christina Peitler

held is n1y body when we make small talk in your parent's house and avoid one another's eyes we share Saltines on the sofa and let the crumbs burn the corners of our n1ouths raw and as you gesticulate at cartoons i watch love dance in and out of you and i worry you're growing tired of me so i make sure every sn1ile contains only n1ore smiles you're an avid reader and a gentle sleeper so i dog ear every page of Mango Street just for you and i exhale to remember because sometimes i forget i forget you're such a cool girl (like me)

and so i pretend not to re1nen1ber all the things you say and all the things you don't say and how cold your hands are when they're tracing a quiet pattern on my thigh held is my body when i' m dancing and thinking of you safe is n1y body when i' m not thinking at all By: India Moore

Our love was a crime racing against tilne.

Yet, Overcome by thrill, Our love stood still.

Only weaker than fate, Only stronger than freewill.

Our love was a crime racing against time.

Perhaps, you dee1ned, If we moved forward, You could forever be mine.

Perhaps, I thought, If we stayed in the same place, We could be frozen in tilne.

I don't love you any less, And you don't love 1ne any more.

We silnply love Religiously, Forevermore.

By: Dana Sulton

I want to feel it the way I felt the entire left side of my body scraped up from a skateboard fall.

Like the desperate way I gulp down water after a n1n in the heat, like the shivering cold after skinny dipping, like the moth unable to resist the candle, like aloe vera on a sunburn.

But she doesn't want that, does she?

She laid there with her head in 1ny lap and said to her, I feel like curtains in the breeze like cracking open a car window like whipped cream, unsweetened, a light dollop on top of the shortcake.

She said the best thing about this is how cherry blossoms still feel soft when they fall from the tree. She said she needs it like this.

She gives me so much - the gift of a gentle kiss on the hip.

Coffee she made in the smallest cup in my cupboard.

Salted nuts from cvs.

Smiling while she's kissing me.

I can't ask more of her.

And that's actually the way to care about someone, I know that.

You don't actually care about someone by "giving them the 1noon" or any other cheesy shit a poem has ever been written about.

You care by letting them sleep when you want to talk to them, by telling them to do their homework when you want to kiss them, by not telling the1n that they are a plum and dark purple and you want the juice dripping down your wrists and getting on your sneakers.

It's not telling them this, because what they need is just to sit in the grass and listen to church bells float By: Tess Goddard away on the wind.

"The t1owers you brought 1ne have blossomed.

They sit on 1ny window sill Welcomed by the view of a brown, stained, brick wall The sun shines in from the upper left corner. That tiny ray was just enoughto transform closed pink buds into t1owery pale petals I thought it would be enough for you too.

Like my lips, the buds-tightly pressed shut, slowly began to open Like my hands opened to hold yours close When the weather warmed, we basked in the sun.

But when it grew cold, and the night extended into the day, your intentions became blurred.

Turmoil tantalized us as the winter wildered our emotions My heart directly facing yours, sought familiarity and warmth.

My arms opened, and those tiny buds in bloom You told 1ne to let you in, to open up to you.

So I tried.

But it wasn't enough.

This time, when the weather warmed, you told 1ne you saw no future for us.

I gave the flowers away to my friend She said that I had cared for them well.

By: Olympia Victor

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I can feel the condensation, I can feel my fingers prune.

I'm holding my drink too tight, it might shatter soon.

She holding tight too, tight to you.

Her velvet dress glistens and her pupils deepen.

I can see from here, your pupils deepen too.

When someone belongs with someone else, it becomes scratched, bold writing on the wall.

I'm tired to scrapping away, hoping to erase what's clearly not mine.

And yet I hold on, until my nail polish chips and my palms blister.

It hurts so much to keep hanging on, to act like I'm yours.

So break up with me, your girlfriend, before I'm written as the evil one.

By: Christina Peitler

He was doing well - all leafy and green when I still sowed your seeds.

He sat there in the sun, As the warm wind shook dust off his little leaves.

Indulging when he still could until the outside crisped cold, weakening him.

We too faded like the pathos's leaves.

Warm days became unbearably hot nights.

The sun illuminated your good, But the night's shadows highlighted your dark.

So I threw him away in the trash chute, plummeting down 6 stories.

This time I'll be the one to give a plant, Growing taller, wider, faster with a woman's touch.

I'll be sure to keep the leaves sunny and green.

By: Carly Neilson

mw;-rrc "This nightingale kept you Awake so often . . . when You should sleep in peace."

- Laustic, Marie de France I'11 let the bird rest 1ny warm palm against the cold window, freezing leaving handprints at night that I know are s1naller than yours across fro1n me, where all that's left is the lonely mark at dawn when I try to close my eyes and crush is all my chest can feel as moonlight inches off my skin, and I can't even meet you in my dreams.

I long for sleepless nights.

I wish I had said something then.

By: Cat Gille

a string wraps around each our hearts tugging, connecting them closer as we kiss apart the string still tangles, binding us lusty blood from our hearts' travels it nourishes our vessels expanding, contracting over and over i love you boils under our skin pulsing through our veins in unison together and apart the rush, the f1ood beco1nes too 1nuch bursting like a bruise leaving proof on delicate skin i think i love you pushing up from deep within sparks of passion lacerate throbbing in blood spilling over and out i love you.

By: Carly Neilson

I'm tangled in your sheets again, Those mourning-doves cooing and cooing Outside on the cold grass.

I'd brave the dew, hike up n1y skirt And lay n1yself clean in the birdbath If it gave n1e just one more minute Of unwitnessed sun.

There's a gleam against the crystals Strung through your picture window.

You don't believe in them, but When I wake up with that rainbow Beam shining clear on my face, I can taste the forgiveness Like an orange in my n1outh.

In a few hours, when you wake up, You will not find 1ne in the house, Or the trees. No. You will find me Four 1niles away fro1n ho1ne, buying you Orange juice for breakfast. I could trek This love for hours and not lose sight Of that morning light.

My darling, I cannot take much 1nore Walking. Give me orchard, give 1ne Bark-skinned knees. Give me axman.

By: Audrey Casper

Not this silence. You see, I could stain every cloth we have Ripe with citrus drip, and you'd still be The only scent in the roo1n.

By: Anonymous

I'm sad because I 1niss you. I Iniss your love. I don't feel it enough.

It's like a little gem that I get gli1npses of sometimes. But I know it's there. I know you love me because you show it through actions and talk about me to other people in your life. And yet, I feel so starved of passion. You are so cerebral and I ain so e1notional. I need you to hold 1ne and kiss me and tell me sweet things. I love you and I want to hold your head in my chest and kiss your cheeks and fall asleep with you.

By: Laney Picon

Capitol letters is the longest-running student literary n1agazine, featuring prose, poetry, and visual art submitted by GW students, staff, and alumni. The annual 1nagazine, unlike our zine lowercase, is a longer, n1ore polished version of a traditional literary 1nagazine.

Subn1it your art and ,vriting to gwcapitolletters@grnail.com Follo,v us on Instagram at @capitol.letters

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Cover: Heartbreak by Nadia Wachira

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