Featured Fiction: B. Lambright

Orchards of Peaches
By: Becca Lambright

If you knew this place as I know it

You would see that love can exist within the confines of academia

Professional love spun amongst passionate, atomic debates

The thrum that comes with seasons turning beneath your soles

Is an amphetamine often mistaken with infatuation

but you must learn to take it slowly

Even God stung himself many times learning that needles hurt

No matter who you are

See, this place is a burial site without tombs

And here, many people have left their thoughts to unmarked graves

The Korean War had little effect on America

But my mother, whose real name is Young Hee Lee,

Often tells me about eating peaches in the dark so she wouldn’t see

That they were rotting and I think back to how easy it is

To remove yourself from your body

Try to understand the word love by what it takes from the world

And remember that many wars have been fought

In the name of a loving leader, country, martyr, God

A disguise for pride and hunger

I don’t think I need to tell you what we all have lost

So, if you knew this place, you would listen to the ping of chapped lips

Held in tension

And I promise that it would teach you that there is no harm in nostalgia

I would know

I revisit it every day

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