My Strawberry Fool, lost in the sea of starfish summers. Shoulders up, prepared to ward off bad news: the cold sick of other’s doubt. The only unconquerable beast your own voice, unwelcome echoes behind each fruit seed.
Land Dwellers
I shift, and the blanket sends feathers flying out into the real world, a place I’ve forgotten, for we are in a bubble, on an island, in the sea, on a spaceship, flying thousands of miles in the opposite direction of all things mobile in the universe. I’m surprised by the lack of calamity, in …