By Natasha Bredle

Photo of heavy rainfall
My heart has been called
a most infinite black hole—not 
in emptiness but constant 
consumption, as with the bees 
today on the lawn, hats of pollen 
dispersing into the wind as their 
waterlogged bodies waggled on the grass, and I
thought for a moment that 
the rain had only drugged them, that 
their limbs still beat with life, with
honey and zz zz, until I peered
closer and saw the little black dots
chugging around them, mindlessly
digging their graves.
ASCII shrug symbol

Natasha Bredle is a young writer based in Ohio. Her work has been featured in publications such as Trouvaille Review, Words and Whispers, and The Madrigal, and has received accolades from the Bennington College Young Writers Awards as well the Adroit Prizes. She edits for Kalopsia Lit. In addition to poetry and short fiction, she has a passion for longer works and is currently drafting a young adult novel. She wants you to know that you are loved more than you could imagine.


Why we chose this piece: The candidness of the opening pulled us right in, the imagery is super vivid, and the ending is dark in a really delicious way (we hope that doesn’t make us sociopaths). 

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