i do not clean dirt from under my nails, a reminder to
depth as the summation of little holes dug in different spots.
but then again i do not know anything
about good art. i think it is hard to find a needle in a haystack,
simile pours like sugar in my english teacher’s coffee.
these satellites orbit around no particular earth
handfuls of spilled glitter dream to look like the stars
i pray my thoughts become prodigal sons.
wander lost to a story, bring it home to let me feast.
melt sugar and butter, call it a cake
buy glass ornaments, keep them in the box
misread flight to forget gravity
ask a fortune teller read my palms
we are trees who missed sprouting roots
cut umbilical cords trying to be bridges
on my eyes i’ll hold wet cloth over salt,
wring to see this dirty water bleed out.
yesterday i sucked empty an oyster,
to put the shell on my shelf
Annie is a full time senioritis machine at South High School in Torrance, California. Her work has previously been recognized by The National Scholastic Art and Writing Awards, the City of Torrance, PTA Reflections, and published by Canvas Lit Mag. She really enjoys peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, the psychedelic synth piano that vibrates under classic rock, and being ubered to different places by all her friends who can drive.