By Kori Elise Chamberlin

laced with lived in leather
mirrors, a window to sixteen
self talks
antique shops
video chats
mislead bats
stained apron
sticky shoes
dunked in donuts
Sophomore blues
melted into
wet bikinis and
tattooed seats
fogged glass hearts
left scars for weeks
you pacified
teenage turbulence as
my spaceship to safety,
roadtrips down dead ends
back seat break room
airport arrivals
and aching arms
now departing down
a vacant runway
an ambulance of affirmations
that grieved gasoline
you were a
scavenger for scarlett skies
with sun seared seats
that soothed New Hampshire
februarys
with skin that echoed charcoal
patched by dad
tenderly with tape and time
to give me
music
memories
trusting yet tired
hiccuped up cemetery hill
and coiled mountains
like homecoming hair
learners permit turned
college graduate
those rubber treads
stamped on my soul.

Kori Elise Chamberlin is a romantic old soul who adores collecting records and writing love letters. The New Hampshire native is happiest writing dreamy, delicate poetry that reads like lyrics of a love song. Kori received her Bachelor of Arts in Creative Writing & English from Southern New Hampshire University.