Oil and Wine
Sunrise splinters from the willow tree.
October’s breath slept on your chest
before she woke and wound around me.
The grass fogs and forgets your tracks;
any records, scratches, or cracks
to stumble and fall for.
Thumb wiped on my shirt,
I point toward what hurts;
press and pry to come up.
You put me to bed and I shake.
Sunrise splinters and you
tell me I shake.
Jack White is a junior at SUNY Brockport studying English. He is from the small town of North Bangor, New York. He spends his time listening to music (specifically hip hop) and sleeping. When he is not doing either of those, you can most likely find him hyperventilating over the current state of the country, and using his Gandy Dancer bio to encourage people to go out and vote in every election they can.