Byline: Mariachiara Ficarelli

On Wisdom (and) Teeth

“A Sunday slumber turned October tastes like cider mixed with tahini.”

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Martinus Young, I had a crush on you when I was five.

“A quotidian damage. Consolidating into a tiny scar; a crescent moon./Now, that’s the only trace I have left of you, Martinus Young.”

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September Re-readings of an August Letter Never Sent Toward Jericho in the Shadows of the Fading Sun

“Four Italians and an Israeli sitting in a blue Chevrolet. It could be the start of a joke.”

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