Wasp

Kristen St. Louis

We were stiff grey skirts and red flushed

cheeks, starched white collars stained

with brown sauce, off-brand peeling

Mary Janes pounding against the

concrete, foreheads dripping with sweat

and wind whipping against our necks,

chasing each other, 

—when we heard the warning hum

of a wasp or the song of something

like it teasing the air behind our ears, 

making us squirm until it landed on

the scuffed toe of your dress shoe.

We were desperate for something

new, and so declared you it, well

aware that you were never going to

chase us, would rather stand there,

become one with that 

yellow and black beast, the stinger

that refuses to be left behind, refuses

to bother itself with someone so 

afraid.

 

Kristen St. Louis is a senior in Grace Hopper College studying English and the History of Social Change and Movements. She is especially drawn to creative writing—poetry, to be specific—that refuses to shy away from ever-evolving historical truths. She is the daughter of healers and men who create solutions with their hands. When not writing or reading, she can be found dancing, laughing a little too loud, or cooking alongside friends and family who help her lose track of time in the best of ways.

ABOUT THE ART | After Dinner by Katya Agrawal, 2025. Katya Agrawal is a student at Yale University.

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