On Loneliness

by Jess Mendes

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Today Manuel gave me apricots
and I sliced them up for breakfast.
The sun is less a knife and
more a craving. See?

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I can thumb a centimeter
and know my friends are happy.
I can say I’m thinking of you
without moving my mouth.

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I buy fifteen jalapeños and smile
with the store clerk. I don’t feel
the need to explain myself anymore.
The risk of fire is so low today.

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© Jess Mendes


Jess Mendes (she/her) is a writer currently based in Upstate NY. She’s trying to be more earnest in everything she does. This is an attempt at that. She loves weird books, gardening, and banana slugs. Feel free to check her out on Instagram @messjendes.


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