Written by: Sophia Magliocca
The tides are coming in closer now. Under the crystal moon, she sees your shadow stretched over the left side of a short cliff. She keeps her blurred eyes fixed on the water while you walk endlessly towards her. There is a radiant darkness in your eyes.
The water runs deep. Without hesitation, you gently lay down on the sand, kissing the waves with your toes. She allows her body to collapse next to yours; you hold her hand, and together, you stare at nothing. Your bodies unleash lustful desire— the kind of desire buried deep within.
Her hair still smells of salt, but yours smells of another woman. She closes her tender eyes, and you close yours. Her throat tightens. You relax your jaw. Her heart pressed against your pink chest roars louder than a lion. Her limbs wrapped around yours like thorny vines. You never cut her away. Your entire love was a jungle. She blinks twice. She’s not dreaming; neither are you.
Your darling has golden eyes—they aren’t green or brown like the rest. Honey-kissed rays are duller than dust compared to her glory. Together you are enveloped in the darkness of the deep blue. The tide is rising; the waves reach your ankles now. The wind is blowing gently as grains of sand hit your bottom lip. Time is slow. You inhale damp air; you exhale the sands of time. Your eyelids quiver from being held shut so long. You inhale dusk, and in your next breath, you give your body to the night. The galaxies tattoo your skin.
She gives herself to you. A dreaded kiss from her salted lips on your burning cheek. She pulls away from your flesh, and each pore slowly unhooks from you. You are loose from her embrace, as she howls with the winds and drags her feet back to the shore. She drifts away. You don’t move an inch. You lay there deep in the high tide. You turn off the moonlight.
You hear nothing.
You see nothing.
You feel nothing.
You rest in sweet, sweet solace.
In still darkness, you sleep forever. You let your body succumb to water. You devote your life to the majesty of the deep. With one final breath, you drown in the silver tides with a smile cast over your face.
Written by: Nicolas Andre
Tall straight lines run
Zero after ones
Thin beautiful lies
The only time I’ll be a one is alone
I’ll never be straight enough to be one
How can we ever add up to two?
If a zero wasn’t so round I could run
Do you ﬁnd me as shallow as I do? Always uneven
Everyone tries to be like everyone
I’ll take no one over someone
This equation balances.
Written by: Ben Stones
Let slip a delicate smile
Let it blossom, rain
Down and coat our gentle eyes
Trickle down to the smallest, velvet rib
Carved and curved and paper thin
Translucent, clasped with a fragile
Written by: Daphné Greco
You were the early rays of sunlight blinding my eyes, waking in the morning to a beautiful, golden day. A handful of daisies in a cup on my yellow windowsill, plucked with your hands to give to mine. Your shirt smelling like honey. My collarbones smelling like honey when I wear your shirt. Watching the sun set in your arms, gold dripping into the moon, gold dripping onto our skin. Your soft hair in my lap, golden. My, oh my, what a drop of perfect sunlight you are.
It was the colour of your tongue on my lips. Soft. The petal of a pink rose in my hands. The blush in my cheeks; the flush in yours. The colour of your paint on my fingernails. I tell you I love you. You tell me you love me. The clouds in the evening are pink. They taste like pink lemonade.
My heart is in your hands. Your nails are the colour of my blood. I drink chocolate milk in a red mug in your sweater. You wake up. You’ve never looked more beautiful. I bite my lip so much it bleeds. There are strawberries on the kitchen counter. They taste sweet. You taste sweet. You love me. Make love to me. The curtains are shut, and everything is red. Your touch lights me on fire. We are on fire. I love it. I love you.
Another sunset. This one we watch fade into purple. The bruises you leave on my neck for me to find in the morning light are the same colour. I love them. I love you. You love me. You wear lilac socks to bed. I sleep barefoot. I love you. I pin small bundles of lavender to the walls, leave them in books on my shelves, leave them on the piles of your clean laundry. You love them. You love me. I love you. The record player is lilac. We listen to Phil Collins. You planted flowers in a pot and put them on the balcony. You forgot to water them. I did it. My bookshelf holds all the words that could never describe you; that could never describe my love for you. You tell me you love me every day. The cork board in the hallway has purple push pins holding pictures of you; pictures of us. We look silly in most. But I love you. I love us. I love your hand in mine and your hands in my hair. The touch of your skin and the light in your eyes. How you hold me like you’re holding the stars. I always knew we were the sun and the stars.
I woke up this morning. You were already in the kitchen, reading. It’s strange, not waking up in your arms. I like waking up warm. But you look peaceful as always, wearing one of my mulberry sweaters. I love you. I love this. It’s cloudy. Perfect weather, right before it rains. Perfect weather for watching movies in each other’s arms. On the couch, we wear each other’s sweaters. I love this. I love you. You wake up earlier and earlier. I keep finding you in the kitchen, the living room, the hallway. I miss the honey and the lavender sheets. But I love you. You aren’t sure.
You aren’t sure.
And then blue. It’s never rained so much. I can’t breathe. The night sky is terrifying. Stay. My blue pillowcase can’t take the tears. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t. Stay. I love you. I don’t know what I’ve done. Was the lavender too much? Were the trips to the bookstore getting old? I love you. You say you don’t but I don’t believe you. I can’t. Look me in the eyes. Tell me I still mean something to you. I’ve worn the same blue pyjamas for days. I need you. You say you don’t love me. You say you don’t love me. Not like you used to. The house is navy from day to night and I’ve never cried so much. The bed feels like ice. I need you. Please. Just say it once. Lie if you have to. My heart can’t take this. I don’t know how to live without every part of you. I need all of it. I need all of you. Please. The early rays of sunlight burn. I love you. You colour my whole world. You coloured my whole world.
Want to join our group of student editors?
If you’re a Literature Profile student interested in the publishing world, Creations provides the chance to develop your critical eye, gain editing experience, and participate in organizing a book launch, held during the spring ALC Festival.
Send requests to:
Pauline Morel, Ph.D.
Literature Profile Coordinator
Room # 3D.5
(514) 931-8731 local # 4343
Want to be published? For aspiring writers and artists in the ALC program, the journal offers a valuable opportunity to submit academic and creative pieces and benefit from the feedback of an editorial team.
The Creations Journal is happy to accept submissions, at any time, from any student in the Arts, Literature and Communication program.
We will accept:
- Short Stories
- Artwork (photography, paintings, collage, drawings…)
Written submissions should be no longer than 1,000 words/3 pages, in .docs file, and in MLA format (size 12 Times New Roman font, double-spaced).
When submitting an essay, we will only accept those presented during the Integrating Activity conference of the ALC festival.
Submissions should be sent to the Creations Journal email at firstname.lastname@example.org
Our group of graduating students in the Literature Profile have worked on making this Creations Literary Journal available online for the first time since its publication in 2001. Here you will find everything creative and nothing dull! Our aim is to publish the creative works of Dawson students in the Arts, Literature and Communication program in order to bring about more beauty and colour into the world, all with the power of words.
The 2018 Creations editors
- Maria Bobotsis
- Cristopher Derfel
- Emily Der Arakelian
- Amanda Khabie
- Yi-Wen Lin
- Atalina Popov
With faculty support from:
Pauline Morel and Jeffrey Gandell, Department of English
We would like to thank the following people for their generous support:
- Nelly Muresan, ALC Coordinator
- Andréa Cole, Dean of Creative and Applied Arts
- Wolfgang Krotter, Assistant Dean
We would also like to thank Matthew Ste-Marie at Dawson’s print shop for his technical assistance
Since 2001, Dawson’s Creations journal has been an annual anthology of students’ creative and academic works. It serves as a yearbook of sorts for each graduating class in the Literature Profile, but also welcomes work from all students in ALC courses.
Edited by graduating students in the Literature Profile, the journal features essays, poetry, short fiction, dramatic pieces, letters, personal reflections, photography, drawings, and other original artwork, individually or collaboratively authored… so everything, really!
For aspiring writers and artists, the journal offers a valuable opportunity to submit academic and creative pieces and benefit from the feedback of an editorial team.
The Creations Journal Editorial Team