Corners leaking grease, the box
arrived: a torn paper bag inside
had spilled popcorn, coating everything—
Chicago magnet, tub of Nutella, poetry
books, photos from the wedding I’d missed,
your letter, which I opened and read with oily hands.
Lifting the crinkled envelope to my face, I sniffed.
Had the scent of home somehow
stowed away here—beneath that of
butter, cardboard—or did I in the act
fool myself,
believing we were again
breathing, briefly,
from the same space of air?
I began to eat. I did not share.
Zach Jepsen is a North Carolina poet living outside of Charlotte with his wife and daughter. He earned his master’s degree in poetry through Warren Wilson College’s MFA Program for Writers and is a member of the Charlotte Lit community. He is a veteran of the United States Marine Corps.