‘A Plea’ & ‘I Bought A Nectarine To Watch It Rot’

A Plea

I am broken and bonded,

trapped between membranes of silk

and lace; torched

by the breath of an unlit match.

I ache like the tendons of a piano

yearning to be touched

caressed, pressed

with the pressure

of unconsummated love;

my skin is stained with the blood, milk,

and honey of yesterday's promise

while the loins of tomorrow grin

with the trick of evening skies.

may I deflesh the face of desire?

let me taste the drops of time

to remember this fatal

immortality.

I Bought A Nectarine To Watch It Rot

Swollen,

cradled in my hand,

syrup dripping down my wrist,

catching in the threads of my sweater.

I press my thumbs into the skin

and tear it open;

the pit protrudes

like a bone birthed through its wound.

I lick the juice,

Bitter as a prayer:

sweet rot,

sweet ruin.

Alaina Veronique

Alaina Veronique is a writer, editor, and educator living in Halifax, Nova Scotia. Her nonfiction has appeared in the Dalhousie Gazette and the Dalhousie Student Life Blog, where she has written on student culture, storytelling, and personal narrative. She is currently pursuing a Master’s degree in Creative Fiction at the University of King’s College. Her creative work centers on themes of love and grief, and the ways these forces intersect to shape intimacy, memory, and human connection. In addition to her graduate studies, Alaina teaches creative writing to ESL students, helping language learners discover new ways of engaging with English through craft and creativity. She is also the founder of From the Fig Tree Press, a small independent literary press committed to publishing diverse and experimental works across genres and media.

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Fern In Shade