fireflies

friday night
we slid into creation
as if nothing could touch us

catching fireflies,
we smashed palms
leaving luminescent
smears
on sweaty brows

diving into tide pools,
salt stinging our knees,
we were still laughing

when the water shifted

and there they were—
history’s ghosts:

crushed skulls
lining the banks

Marcus Wilson is an MFA candidate in poetry at Lindenwood University. Based in Vermont’s Green Mountains, he writes from experiences of neurodivergence and recovery, exploring memory, inner life, and transformation. His poems appear in Main Street Rag, The Braided Way, and The Passionfruit Review, and he was a finalist in the 2025 Lucky Jefferson Poetry and Prose Contest.