she’s caught between frames—
right hand blurred, reaching
for something beyond paper edges.
mom says you can’t capture lightning
but the camera tried anyway:
her laugh mid-spark, hair
a storm cloud of possibility.
this was before college applications,
before she learned to pose for expectations.
back when summer meant cut-off
shorts and raspberry-stained fingers,
when she still believed
the world could hold all
her wild without breaking.
now she sends photos from seattle,
perfectly filtered, properly posed.
but i keep this one magnetic
on my fridge: motion-smeared sister,
forever seventeen, eternally
suspended in the moment before change.
Emma Lopez is a high school junior from Austin, Texas. Their work has appeared in TeenInk, and they are currently working on their first collection of poetry. When not writing, they practice archery and sell watercolor paintings of Texas wildflowers.