Tell me if you’ll answer, and I’ll remember how to ask 

By NICOLE ITKIN

When I reach out, what am I reaching–
for? 

(my) 
Flowers blearily 
stare out the windows,
Orchids: at midnight, red-robed

They kiss 
the glass, lips pursued, 
smudging the Clear

they’ll forget about; 
Soothing, 
forgetting 

Sun bursts into the room,
and the Flowers burrow themselves
down into the ground,  

At least mine do, 
mine hide (hand in hand: 
slipping away) 

See? 

Brushing soil free, I watch;
Clarity: with Distance, I love 
Questions I can’t answer 

Writer | Nicole Itkin ’26 | nitkin26@amherst.edu
Editor | Tristan Moore ’24 | tmoore24@amherst.edu