Prose & Poetry

Slice of Costco cake for my fourteen-year-old self, the CAMHS kid that he was. Now don’t

Lips pursed in a kiss I blow these phrases in one deep breath Out into the

Winter winds whisper softly The breath casts a chill into the soul Bare trees reach out

The elastic waistband in America’s underpants was fraying, blown out. Shot. We’d sucked too hard, too

Don’t kid yourself, the designers weren’t acrimonious, only single-minded about keeping you suspended up above the

I’m counting sheep on their hills, butterflies on silk screens, cherries on Black Forest cake, and

A soul ablaze, with mind of water, and form of shattered steel. Winds tear sails and

She was      a pieced-together preposition      dangling off incomplete parents      unbraiding vibrant yellow and