Closed Eye Open - Issue IV

Page 38

Abigail Gray everyone’s fragile, now that we’re still alive no longer are we collective dandelions, quickly sprouting through cracks in the pavement; no, we’re more akin to the domesticated houseplant. transplanted to a dim home office, terracotta planter sucking the moisture from our roots, yet we’re too afraid to make our thirst known. our caretaker sighs, wondering where she went wrong in her tender care, not realizing her trowel, fertilizer and exact moisture schedule (please nurture me each friday, before noon) was our downfall. give me danger, make me the prey quivering in naked daylight, seeds floating across harsh breezes and through fierce thunderstorms. i want to be herculean yet unruly, slip my roots into uncharted gardens. let me wither down into crisp dust during the 38


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Closed Eye Open - Issue IV by alexeyadonin - Issuu