ISSUE FIFTEEN: Lastly, My Seer | next poem →

Sunny Honey

Emily Rosello Mercurio

My mallowy, my kismet star,
my baby purple absolute.
I climb your open sinuses,
slime your hollow gooey ribs.

(please please pick me,
a red heart embroidered
on a baseball cap. i thread
alive in the sunshine—
you can feel it in your hands).

When we collide you roll me down
the morning hill just like a breeze.
Your tongue a leech inside my mouth,
your iris bubble wonderful.

(whatever you want me
to chew, i’ll do. my summertime
valentine, my open
throat, my please
please please)

Emily Rosello Mercurio is currently pursuing her MFA in Creative Writing at Cornell University, where she also serves as Assistant Editor for EPOCH Magazine. Her work is forthcoming in Plain China.

ISSUE FIFTEEN: Lastly, My Seer | next poem →

ISSUE FIFTEEN: Lastly, My Seer

Michael Albright
   Because of your problem,
      do you often feel others
      have no idea what you are going through?

Emily Rosello Mercurio
   Sunny Honey

Rose Knapp

Rachel Mindell
   Life as we know it

Kathleen E. Krause
   Digging Digits

Kristie Betts Letter
   Montana Wildhack Read Aloud

Sandeep Kumar Mishra

Daniel Romo

Elizabeth Kirkpatrick-Vrenios
   See Saw Margery Daw

Nate Maxson
   Patient Zero

Alec Hershman
   The Point of Vanishing