They say—what do they say? That we look just alike or nothing alike. They cannot agree. Always shouting though, no matter how unsure they are, trading us like firecrackers, inspecting…
After a teen runs into me. After, without words, the Gardening attendant scoops up shards of adobe blown aisle-wide. After she smiles in a double-shift way and offers the pot…
We say this, she’s a monster, meaning his wife, girlfriend, or the bride-to-be, he’s a monster, meaning a man good in bed or a puppy that chews our leather sandals to…
When they crammed me into clothes, dropped me at the school, unceremoniously, with all the other little beasts. I knew the jig was up. I knew this wasn’t going to…
He plucks your shin bones from your flesh and presses them between his fingers until he can dust his garden with what was once you. His inventory: 1. The poppies.…
Get up! Get up! She’s gone! —Glinda the Good Witch, The Wizard of Oz Thinking sunlight or scrub would erase the cologne from scarves and coats I gathered, this piled…
I can conjure your voice like a ventriloquist with the chords of my brain -throat: before there was the internet—radio-stereos only played tapes. We’re a tape in the glove compartment,…
It was winter under A certain little star: A first day fable? A snow white fable. Pear tree. Prayer. A snow fairy January. The waking orchard: The waking horse. *…
I was a good girl. All fluff, and soft, and full of too many ways. Such a good girl that they locked me up, and threw away the keycard, erased…
I always felt left out, my sisters and brothers treating me like I was an embarrassment. They called me “the unseen,” I was lonely, I admit it. Poseidon and Zeus…
Gingerbread House Lit Mag 