What if everything were revealed: where I was last night. You, etc. The rain is coming down like salad. My sister's hair reminds me of my sister so much I can't stop looking. Who am I to have arms? On the plane one short dream: a baby so small it wasn't even human, just a bouquet of light with wise cellular eyes. If losing me is the worst thing to happen, your life is still a good life.
Copyright © 2011 by Emily Kendal Frey. Used with permission of the author.