—Laura Moriarty
The ostrich’s hopscotch
was graceful (Ines
timably, thought
the ostrich, who
believed she was
being offered a
scotch.) and my
skin burns as if it’s
afire. I’m
all too aware
of the numerous
lies within my
heart. What
I meant by
the weather
was my mood,
emotion. Emo
ticon, emoticant.
Precipitate. Rec
iprocate....
Andy wasn’t hard
up when I hit
rock bottom.
Later that same
weakness – a
few silent frays –
a Miss Oliver point
ed up to where
we were when
we first saw it.
Each of us felt
a chill of a
different
kind.
