Eight of Swords
by Caroline Grand-Clement | January 2, 2021
you’re still hiding away,
stuffing your poems down your own throat
the trees imprinted on your eyelids;
you get lost in the forest once again.
every tree is a word in a language
you know all too well.
you try to run away
as if your skin could shed,
as if cutting down the forest would not be
1-0 pour la forêt.
Caroline Grand-Clement (she/her) is a queer eighteen-year-old studying English & Scandinavian literature in Lyon, France. She dreams of art in any form, falling stars, and late night conversations. She hopes to make a change in the world one word at a time.