It’s actually so easy. to lie if you’re doing most of it to yourself. I don’t like to practice. I think I’ll buy the one with pine tree resin. I think I’ll drink it in the skatepark. I would kiss you here. I would tell you about my astigmatism and how it makes the skyline look like someone smudged an oil painting — how in it you look only like the outline of someone I could love. — McCAELA PRENTICE
McCaela Prentice (she/her) is living in Astoria, New York. She is (unsuccessfully) growing an herb garden. Her poems have previously appeared in Hobart, Ghost City Review, and Perhappened. Her debut chapbook “Junk Drawer Heart” was published in 2020 by Invisible Hand Press.