Slices of citrus on a turquoise plate

This month we offer lilacs, lemonade, hands holding hands.

Next month we are:

UPROOTED

Submission guidelines can be found here.

Pink candle melted onto a dark table

Covers

I reach for you under the covers–
maroon quilt, nestled between us like a question. Your smudged mascara, the way lilacs
linger on your lips. Maybe my mother was right, maybe all that is left from our summer of gelato
& used book stores is this:
sour aftertaste that tastes like the night you glanced at me across the room, Old Fashioned
in hand, a slight smile like you knew this was the end of things, that the Pinterest board of
coordinating wedding dresses & ethereal candlelight had a dreamlike quality for a reason
but I didn’t want to disrupt those dreams, didn’t want to hear the hollow notes of your
good mornings
as you kissed my lips, then my cheek, as if it had become a duty, ripe fruit
soured under eternal sun, the sun that made us beautiful as it slowly
caused indelible damage under our pores
Your hand finds mine & for a moment it’s all there: your checkered scarf, how you eat your pizza
with a fork, the way your laugh sounds like rain but
the hesitation- the way your smooth hand brushes against my writer’s callouses
your body full light- mine, shadows
When we kiss, I taste the lemonade from that summer: first too sweet, then a punch of sour notes
that drip down my throat, that linger
as you dress & pack your things

Erin Jamieson (she/her) holds an MFA in Creative Writing from Miami University. Her writing has been published in over eighty literary magazines, including a Pushcart Prize nomination. She is the author of a poetry collection (Clothesline, NiftyLit, Feb 2023).  Her latest poetry chapbook, Fairytales, is available from Bottlecap Press. Twitter: @erin_simmer

Lilacs against a black background

me and you and them

Safia Mayy is a Filipino-American poet based in St. Louis. She loves mango nectar and her cat, Mara. She can also be found @safmayy on Twitter.

Two birds flying in the distant blue sky
Slices of citrus on a turquoise plate

This month we offer lilacs, lemonade, hands holding hands.

Next month we are:

UPROOTED

Submission guidelines can be found here.

Pink candle melted onto a dark table

Covers

I reach for you under the covers–
maroon quilt, nestled between us like a question. Your smudged mascara, the way lilacs
linger on your lips. Maybe my mother was right, maybe all that is left from our summer of gelato
& used book stores is this:
sour aftertaste that tastes like the night you glanced at me across the room, Old Fashioned
in hand, a slight smile like you knew this was the end of things, that the Pinterest board of
coordinating wedding dresses & ethereal candlelight had a dreamlike quality for a reason
but I didn’t want to disrupt those dreams, didn’t want to hear the hollow notes of your
good mornings
as you kissed my lips, then my cheek, as if it had become a duty, ripe fruit
soured under eternal sun, the sun that made us beautiful as it slowly
caused indelible damage under our pores
Your hand finds mine & for a moment it’s all there: your checkered scarf, how you eat your pizza
with a fork, the way your laugh sounds like rain but
the hesitation- the way your smooth hand brushes against my writer’s callouses
your body full light- mine, shadows
When we kiss, I taste the lemonade from that summer: first too sweet, then a punch of sour notes
that drip down my throat, that linger
as you dress & pack your things

Erin Jamieson (she/her) holds an MFA in Creative Writing from Miami University. Her writing has been published in over eighty literary magazines, including a Pushcart Prize nomination. She is the author of a poetry collection (Clothesline, NiftyLit, Feb 2023).  Her latest poetry chapbook, Fairytales, is available from Bottlecap Press. Twitter: @erin_simmer

Lilacs against a black background

me and you and them

Safia Mayy is a Filipino-American poet based in St. Louis. She loves mango nectar and her cat, Mara. She can also be found @safmayy on Twitter.

Two birds flying in the distant blue sky

Sign up to receive a new issue of Rough Cut Press on the first of each month.

We will never share your contact information without explicit permission.