lambs racing through split bushes,
khakis and grown-in splinters burrowed under
goose-bump covered skin; us three girls, wiry legs and
knobby knees, hidden under unicorn bandaids and smiley-face
stickers from the dollar store.
we told ourselves to look for ghosts, an emblem
of a 3am bloody mary ritual in a china-tiled bathroom;
dirt caressed our fingernails, growing flowers from our
own nutrients and hope.
we brushed each others’ hands, leaving
carcasses of dreams amidst the blossoming of
once-dead pine trees and snail shells; we were
infinite, unstoppable by none other than a ringing
dinner bell.
our grey hair would never grow in, wrinkles unknown,
unfazed by lost teeth and trickles of blood; not even
the spreading bruise of an impending tornado in the wheat fields
could stop us from clutching each other under the shadows
of sickly branches.
ghosts disappeared, threatened by home-made EMF readers
and pink Disney walkie-talkies; floating home from a fruitless
vacation: the corpse of a possum, blackened lungs choking
on freedom summers and boiling skin, arms wide-open,
waiting for the final haunt.
Ema Bekic is a student at Interlochen Arts Academy, majoring in Creative Writing. Using her roots in both Canada and Serbia, she writes bilingually, drawing upon the voices of her heritage and the thrills of youth. When she isn’t writing, you can find her travelling with her camera or collecting scraps of literature.