Miranda Hanes, Staff Writer

The water running through my hands is colder than it was yesterday,

but it is cleaner than it once had been.

“thank you” we say.

I wonder if it’s because we have that engraved

–or maybe we are grateful.

We tend to barely see what we have

But to notice what we lack,

Give it away,

Give it away,

You try.


Take it back.

Consumption until you’re living lav-

ish, not entirely.

You won’t ever be satisfied.


It’s as if the world’s humanism has died.

We cherish those who still show love,

I do.

It’s more beautiful than white doves—

Surrounded by darkness.

No matter the remanence around them,

they manage to stay untouched,

their wings are even without black tips,


Just as love is.