Isabelle Son

I met my younger self for coffee. We both just made it in time.  I gave her a hug when I saw her. She looked uncomfortable as I wrapped...

My room is a box that holds memories and feelings, celebrations and sadness. It’s where I always come home to after good news, where I...

Brushstrokes of silver starglow, the anthem of youth harmonizes with the sustained chords of age The whispers of twinkling lights uttering secrets, “don’t tell anyone!” The world slipping off my fingertips, fleeting glances of all that surrounds me I spin, the corners of the room curling into me, my surroundings tangle into a cat’s cradle An unlimited solar system and I’m the sun Spiraling into rejuvenation, toppling back to my youth, it tickles my fingertips, its humming its sweet, light...