Home About Menu Menu Subscribe

The Love of This World This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

By Madeleine B, Wexford, PA

All the good in me unlaced I pull what I own across the floor,
books devoured to the spine, impressions the knees of my jeans
have made of kneeling, my ghosts of ghosts, the saint who is namesake.

I lay it out. A turtle can lay one hundred
thirty-seven eggs in the hollows of trash-filled beaches
and pray her young into the foam

and I know how she judges her almost-gone
with the shell’s first clean fracture, and how much she holds
when she owns nothing and watches it race away.

I line it up for you, lay it down, armfuls, fistfuls,
incalculable catalogues of rinsed fingerprints

Continue Reading »

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this!