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Papyrus scribbles. Richly bled 

heated heart stuttering and swelling. 

Our shoes forgotten, lay the 

table with Mediterranean swallowings and 

open the bottle of fierce, affirming rivers. 

Sunlight absorbed hydrates the meadows of 

your water plant pages covered in 

notes on the battles of the silver moon tides. 

Turn the page, write this down. 

Here, turn it again, taste some wheatgrass, and, 

energized, maybe you can keep the flames out of the 

sky. Never fading, never not nourished, 

inch by inch, plant your love root in the white-pink of the 

streets of Montmartre. Love, we couldn’t be closer to God. 

  • Brandi Spann is a junior Honors student majoring in English and double minoring in Creative Writing and Women's Studies. She has a passion for going out for coffee, watching movies about the grief of growing up, discussing lyricism with her peers, and finding the best local matcha powder. She recently returned home from her semester abroad in Dublin, Ireland, where she visited seven countries and developed a newfound love for community and ravioli alla caprese. She'd like to thank her ever-growing circle of friends and family for their support and encouragement. 

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