Reflection

by Stephanie Cressler

Folded on my Nana’s left thigh,

back pressed into her breasts,

my face lightens as my Nana

outlines my features

with her non acrylic, ruby red nails.

Words

by Stephanie Cressler

Head down, fingers typing,

fingers swiping, eyes captured,

mouth closed, not talking.

Fortified

by Stephanie Cresseler

I reach to touch you,

to let you know I’m here for you,

but the white dormitory cement wall

is too dense for my hand to pass through,

yet so thin I hear like it’s paper.