my sister and i will sit in the curve of the moon
our legs swinging above the world where we’ll whisper
songs of childhood deviancy
and let our words fall down onto the earth below
like the rain.
and my parents will polka, slow and steady
in penumbras of church shadows and stained-glass light
to bethlehem and back
our legs swinging above the world where we’ll whisper
songs of childhood deviancy
and let our words fall down onto the earth below
like the rain.
and my parents will polka, slow and steady
in penumbras of church shadows and stained-glass light
to bethlehem and back
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.
MoraleAsh
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