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Gloria This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

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Oh, the days of Gloria.
She licked the cream-colored crown moldings
and announced that they tasted pink.

That sure-footed stumbler
weaving precariously between the garden gates
scooped into the rusty cavern of a veteran wheelbarrow.

Her laughter makes the timid fingers of baby's breath quake.

Gloria
sprawled in black soil
red hair intertwined among tender
pea sprouts.
Rusty curls
that you draw from her face
as your lips find hers
to hang in golden silence.

Gloria
startled among the earth
and the fertile summers of your existence.

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.




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