The word Love
like a pebble under my tongue
It takes a second of awkward maneuvering to dislodge
and tumbles to your feet
We both stare for a moment
I turn my gaze back to your face
and bear witness to a stone of your own pressing against your cheek
You scoop it out
let it rest on your tongue
Then slowly reveal
my undoing
The word Sorry
Anna Lund is a writer and artist attending high school in northern Minnesota.