by Ella Rous
sorry i put my fingerprints all over the couch, your lips,
the family dog / it’s just that some days i think my hands
will become ghosts / it’s just that i left my body to bleed out
in the street & fell asleep clutching my heart / sorry i held
my hand over my mouth when you asked me to love you /
it wasn’t because i didn’t love you, it was because my love
leaves water stains in your kitchen ceiling / my love leaves
the party early to make snow angels in the yard / & runs
when the sun starts to rise.
Ella Rous has recently graduated from the Westwood High School in Dallas, Texas, and will be attending the University of Texas at Austin in fall of 2021. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in High Shelf Press and the notes app on her phone. Today, her favorite words are oyster, chimney, and séance.
Emerge Literary Journal 