by Kayla Matus

i
five dots rest on top while each bottom
could hold a hand. midways threads
so narrow they are transparent to eyes,
but not touch.
 
ii
on the shore, there they are
as vile seas rush to wipe them,
though the prints are deeper now.
 
on the shore, they set a foundation
beneath anyone who draws nigh
with a pure, fading heart.
 
iii
it initiates an ache for
Your print to reach my heart
and leave behind a trace of soil.
 
a thirst for the soil
to welcome a fountain
that springs eternal life.
 

so hear before i turn into a desert
where the ground boils, and the kindest of all
burn before reaching the center.

---

Kayla Matus is majoring in Creative Writing at Arkansas Tech University. She has been the editor of her University’s Nebo, Literary Journal, and has also been published there. On her free time, she enjoys watching old cartoons and completing puzzles.