Carried Away by featured artist Jamila Clarke


      Golden Delicious

      You were melt-in-my-mouth—
      Tuesdays under the sky.
      I picked your words like
      fruit from the vine;
      we were decadent.
      Stretched out in the sunshine-touch
      of each other’s lips,
      your skin hot like a Texas summer,
      I could have spent forever
      tucked against the apple orchard of your chest.
      My sundress hiked up around my thighs.
      The two of us, laughing, with
      “Someday” on our tongues—dripping down our chins,
      all gold and vibrant.
      We were ripe for eating.
      We were sticky-sweet.
      We were less Forever than we thought.
      And when the cold set in,
      I was still eating apples
      even after you’d dug up your roots and gone.
      (You said I held my hands too still.)
      I wasn’t doing nothing.
      I was putting down seeds
      and waiting for Spring.


      Softness

      Don’t you dare, for one minute,
      believe that my kindness makes me
      anything but insurmountable.
      I did not unzip my chest to every kind of hurt,
      and stagger back, wounded and alive,
      just to hear you call me weak for trying.
      I opened my door to Heartache—
      I gave her the fucking key.
      My softness for wayward strangers
      has made me nothing less
      than a halfway house for aching soles.
      So when you open your mouth
      and call me ‘baby’
      understand that I am not your next victim
      in a laundry list of broken girls.
      You think I don’t know you? People like you?
      People with mouths for hands.
      I’ve got skin like topsoil
      and your teeth could never take root.
      So when you go looking to make a plaything
      of a sunburst,
      you better look for someone with less fire
      than me.
      Because softness or no,
      I will eat you alive
      before I let you make a meal of me.


Ashe Vernon

I am a junior in college, majoring in theatre and minoring in gender studies. I spend most of my time writing poetry and plays (two of which have been produced as staged readings). All my life I’ve had a love affair with words, but I only recently found myself drawn back to writing poetry. I can’t remember why I left, but I know I won’t leave it ever again. You can find more of my work at latenightcornerstore.tumblr.com