I’d see it, there, the name for me, there, above the little box.
A eucalyptus will grow to six feet in the blink of an eye and when that happens I will have to donate it, but Google doesn’t say where.
My mother and I drop bunch after bunch into the bowls like dark chandeliers.
The year is a spell, and I am casting about inside it.
I trusted my mother completely, the way a balloon trusts its string.
The truth is that when you die, you die, forever and ever amen.
The first time she rips the strip off I inhale.
She’ll get devoured in this world if she’s not careful.
Matt responds in the same spellbound way people mention imaginary places of great importance: The Ivory Tower, The Castle in the Sky, Helm’s Deep.
She smirked at the appearance of a double chin, the disappearance of a clavicle, the appearance of a cleavage, the disappearance of a thigh gap.