Welcome to Labrys, your student-run art and literature collective of Smith College.

We were all anxiously perched on eighteen’s cusp.
Summer burnt us intimately, it’s too close to the face.
Sweating Panting Staring.

I was shaking differently than usual, thighs pumping ripping crushing pounding
Weak-muscled, woozy
Wearing my summer dress, light blue and white, but no shoes
I took the limestone gravel barefooted

Angry pinpoints burst from his capillaries and sloshed purple around
his beautiful brown eyes, long eyelashes,

The ambulance arrived after me, there’s no rush when there’s nothing more you can do.
Death is a shriveled yellow rose - the color of friendship and youth
And the terrible heat of August