“Plastic Eucalyptus” by Jessica Hamlin

Guilt fits underneath every one
moment of calm,
A lull in the squeaking
Contains perforated promises
Of Scotch-taped brokenness

Concentrated clouds of
Warm, oiled air
Can’t remove the layers
of dirt and dust and skin
who lay under there

To water a velvet fern
is not to establish roots
To carve a half-circle
Into a copper urn
To color it yellow
With purple hues
Is not to feel the sun

Your green thumb,
Alchemical delusion

Jessica Hamlin is a fourth-year student majoring in Journalism and English. She likes to tell stories about shifts and trends in culture, the internet, and the environment. In her free time, you can find her writing, reading, taking photos, spending time with friends and listening to podcasts.