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The Daily Cardinal Est. 1892
Friday, January 27, 2023

Windshield Wipers

All articles featured in The Beet are creative, satirical and/or entirely fictional pieces. They are fully intended as such and should not be taken seriously as news.

Somewhere in my mind, in dark corners

I see flickers, fractals of hope

A slighted fire in need of kindling,

You cry, why?

We sat in your car and I peered into your eyes,

Standing at the dock I saw raging monsoons and torrent tsunamis but there’s calm 

In the eye of the storm

It was raining outside. Your eyelids served as windshield wipers, low battery,

You shut down in front of me

Head on my shoulder you looked into the rearview talking about your whole life ahead of you

You’re different around me. Softer, like dove soap, you float

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