dear oliver,
ring. ring. it’s
the phone again.
ring. ring. it’s
your mom. happy.
‘he’s better.’
is anyone ever better?
quinn
YOU ARE READING
zero
PoetryQuinn scribbles tainted emotions across thin layers of white paper. But to who? To someone who blinks once, sees her, and blinks again-just to make her disappear. To someone who sees her as a symbol of the ocean. To someone who thinks the ocean is...
xcii.
dear oliver,
ring. ring. it’s
the phone again.
ring. ring. it’s
your mom. happy.
‘he’s better.’
is anyone ever better?
quinn
