after Swan Lake The curtain rises, clean as a guillotine dripping velvet crimson. You, my sister, pirouette—the false bride, the decoy. All eyes survey your whirl like palms assessing thigh…
I once read Snow White every day for a week. Sunday On the first day, I read Snow White and considered the color red. As many versions of red exist…
She first sees him in the mirror, over her mother’s shoulder. She’s asking about the canapes, and where to have the workman set up the marquis, and the housekeeper who…
Along uphills and nettles, she comes finally to the bald—star of Bethlehem, water and stone, reflecting pool of unresolve. Weathered thick of skin in late killing frost, paper lunaria loosed to…
The woman heard a noise like the sound of lightning—it was small, so small it might have just been the intention of lightning—from inside her locked room. She pressed her…
I wish I could take that spark and eat it for dinner I could take the flame from your candle, that heightened teardrop pouting smoke, pinch it between my fingers…
We come to her kitchen line each morning in the light and fog of Oak Street Junior High, we are nothing. You are everything. Fresh from the morning fights…
She knew the mushrooms that were safe, where to find young greens in March, salves to heal the brown eyes of a calf. She called a hummingbird to the porch…
I’ve never believed in magic, despite the seals and foxes that kept showing me the way. This April, when the cherry blossoms shook themselves loose, I finally felt what witches…
PART I We told everyone beforehand not to stare. That the Minotaur was, different. Was half and half. Was not like other party people. We thought he would be a…
Gingerbread House Lit Mag 