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writing

Wildflowers In Her Hair

5/25/2019

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Wildflowers in Her Hair
Aster
Art By Emily Chen
Picture
She was a dancer, performing on stages big and small
Her arms poised and legs quick
Her hair
Neat
Taut
Her face
Still
Cold
She practiced day and night
Feet moving back and forth on the edge
One day she falls
She crawls out with the new spring
Inching far, far away
A field she passes through
Sweet breezes brushing along
Blanketed in a lush green
Flowers sprouting here and there
Tiny, yet extravagant
She idles around
A sigh of relief she lets go at last
Time doesn’t stop for her
When she blinks
Her mind is anew
She returns to the stage
Eyes no lighter than the tropical sea
Smile dazzling
Moving with grace, passion, delight
And wildflowers entwined amongst her hair

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Maybe

3/13/2019

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Picture
Maybe
Aster
Art by Lea Shvarts

She blew the piece of grass in her fingers, the textured tip swaying unsightly in her fingers.
“What do you think we will be after school?”
He furrows his brows.
“After high school or college?” They were only seniors in high school. They hadn’t even set foot into adulthood yet.
“Both—I mean when we’re real adults.”
“Are college students not real adults?”
She throws the strand of grass away and turns away from him.
“You know what I mean.” He does and thinks for a while. Her brown irises were back and peering over him with a curiosity he couldn’t figure out. It was unsettling but he found his words.
“Maybe a manager in some company, probably an office worker. You?”
She takes a breath. She must’ve been contemplating it before asking him.
“A chemist or a geneticist but I want to have some free time for my hobbies. Nothing time consuming, that's all. More time for writing would be nice, but I am interested in the science field.”
He doesn’t pry and listens to her science rant. He didn’t need to confuse her further.

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Ember

3/13/2019

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Ember
Aster
Art by Hiruni Kumari
Picture
He didn’t fit
The wrong piece of a puzzle
Eyes were molten unlike the others
Heart aflame unlike the others
He cared too much and hated too little
He should be far away
Maybe in a nice town with nicer people
A warm house and family
Better than these smoky eyes
Better than this burning stench
Better than bloodstained fingers

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