by Margery Hannah
I look forward to them the way I once wet-tongued over cotton candy as a child. Neon afro-sugar melting in my mouth, what is sweeter than that? We marched in the rain until we became it, two drops sinking below dirt and resurrected with an ache carrying us above nimbus fluff.
© Margery Hannah 2006. All rights reserved.
© Margery Hannah 2015. All rights reserved.