Sporting your minds – those of the unripened squash
Yet carrying in your breasts the audacity of a thousand gods
Your futile lives, your hubris not only to fly too close to the sun
But to glare intently into her harsh white beams
Taunting her, daring her to proceed
In the stillness, our resentful hearts displace the stars
By Lucy DeMeo ‘24, Arts & Entertainment Editor
