Queer
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Oscar
i. Our love dared not speak its name, flowing in hushed whispers like a river through the forest of our hearts; stolen glances over notebooks, newspapers, and sins. We danced around each other in this spinning world, hiding in the twenty-six s p a c e s between my you and my first. We waited Continue reading
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She Stood on the Doorstep
Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. She stands on the doorstep, her hand raised in a fist, poised to knock. There is a worrisome edge to her, lip caught between her teeth, her eyes glazed over; she is terrified. Gathering her short blonde hair into her other hand, she bobs up and down on the balls Continue reading
Emily Elizabeth Buckley 