by Grace Pappadellis ’29 on October 9, 2025
Poetry
Your expression,
your countenance,
I can read you.
You’re a book, but let’s watch a film.
Hushed, even, tranquil.
Repetitive fluttering,
the television lightens your face.
Beaming, blinking, a quiet smile, indifferent.
We’ll never speak enough,
and we live in the bleakness,
somehow comforted by shared sorrows.
Your intrigue—
Nothing and everything.
You follow the broadcasted voices,
but I wish you’d follow mine.
Lounge clothes, or a random combination—
I admire your aloofness.
I’d like to be the same,
unfixed and wandering.
Stuck here, forever, it seems.
I’m grateful for your effortless answers,
though they’ll never settle.
Temporary relief, futile band-aids.
Fix me, fix me, just by staying.