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©2017 by Ellipsis: Binghamton University's Literary Magazine. Proudly created with Wix.com

Piles of Books

December 25, 2018

I was driving through Kirkwood, NY
on a Sunday morning.
Scenic lines of strip clubs
dot the highway next to
the abandoned insane asylum
(live! girls! DO NOT ENTER)-
Rusted train tracks bend
and shimmy along state route 17-


I was suddenly very aware of
the space my own...

December 20, 2018

when I think about me
I don’t think of anything.
I listen to the whisper of
melting snow- the snap of spring and
a muddy surrender under my feet
I imagine I am a quiet place, a still pond,
a nook to sit and think, absent of complexity
and try to drown this sinking feel...

December 17, 2018

In my dreams,
I am living an Italian Summer.
I wake up to a soft breeze,
Sending vibrations through my veins,
And warm beams of sunlight,
Thrusting through the curtains,
Bidding my slumber goodbye.
I slide my body through the curtains
Guarding the balcony,
And take in...

December 17, 2018

In a world where we are persecuted and shunned, we have a place to call our homeland.

She beckons us home where we are welcomed by our brothers and sisters with whom we share
connections built on our identity, religion, and culture.
No matter our sect, our lifestyle, or...

December 16, 2018

We kissed until the trains stopped running
You said that God spoke through me

I have nowhere to go
And you have no faith
If you’ll be my home
I’ll be your church

I feel your hands travel up and down
My thighs
And your thumbs link into my belt loops
The way thoughts trave...

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