The Loveliest Kind of Cowardice by Harry Katz (Virginia, 21)

I want to say every word to you at once.

But they trip over each other
And so instead,
I am silent. Content though
Hopeful,
Wanting,
Convinced you will divine
The electric hum that runs through me
And know it is for you.
​
Sit here a while longer.
Don’t overthink it.

​
Harry Katz is a part-time bartender and full-time student in the Department of American Studies at Stanford University. His work has appeared in the Rye Whiskey Review and the White Cresset Arts Journal and won the Bocock Guerard Fiction Prize. He lives in the stormiest part of Central Virginia, in a county with far more cows than people. He can be found and reached at @katzinbag on Twitter.