A Semester Abroad
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Poem About Love
You call it writers block,
I say I’m empty inside.
Arguments over cold coffee
And burning but not smokeable
Cigaretter butts.
Social contracts obligate me
To tell you not to worry,
But there are fires burning softly underneath,
And the rivers of my veins
Dare me to let them free.
You tell me not to worry,
And I lie and say I won’t.
We pray that we will stay in touch,
But we both know that we won’t.
more by T. MAPLEY
photograph by Luis Llerena
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