by Aidan Cox
Turning your head, hair ablaze in the morning sun like a lit match.
And in conversation, in the old, gold frame of a faded painting.
That landscape, the little brown stork, those oak trees.
The late night of a party and all the warm, glowing bulbs behind his head.
You will be reflected in my eyes, turning, never quite meeting me.
San Juan Sunset
by Alex Stolis
Aidan Cox is an Appalachian undergraduate student at Ohio University. They are a writer and editor for multiple local and campus publications. She enjoys chocolate, the terror and joys of daily living, and long walks on the beach.
Alex Stolis lives in Minneapolis; his photos have previously appeared or are forthcoming in Ink in Thirds, San Pedro Review, Unleashed Lit, and Anti-Heroin Chic. His full-length book Pop.1280, is a poetry and photo collection, available from Amazon. His chapbook, Postcards from the Knife-Thrower’s Wife, was released by Louisiana Literature Press in 2024, RIP Winston Smith from Alien Buddha Press 2024, and The Hum of Geometry; The Music of Spheres, 2024 by Bottlecap Press. He can also be found at https://alexstolis.myportfolio.com/
Ignatian Literary Magazine 