how I'd love
to a far-off world of nothingness
where the sky is forever sapphire
and the grass is infinitely emerald.
and scented candles
weave through old books and the legs of antique chairs.
and grazing in the fields behind
the rickety barn
is the Pegasus
wings like music, soft and sweet
like marshmallow kisses on a wednesday morning in august
and biting at my ankles are
the blades of grass in need of mowing
but no one cares for it,
they are preoccupied
by picnics on the eighth day
of the week under the trees in the apple orchard
where ham and cheese never tasted so divine
fluttering are the monarch's wings
stirring the glittering air
into the whirlwinds of excitement
where the tiny larva of insight
and that world is right on the other side of my mirror.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.