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Ursa Minor This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

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I'm like the little dipper:
you can't always see me,
but I am always there.”

He exhales soft gray clouds;
beneath his cologne
is the faint scent of the last cigarette
he smoked.

I see constellations when
he holds me – his arms consume
me whole.

His voice, a comet brushing my ear:
“You know where to find me.”

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.




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