Laura Cherry

Laura Cherry

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What I Will Wear

A mantle of courtyard light and a cloak of greenish leaves. Cologne of spring mud and horse droppings. A string of shells from where we walked and wondered if it was too strange, then kept walking. Feather of pelican, feather of gull. Sand to blow in your eyes before I kiss you. My hair in waves. What shall my dress be? Foam blood otter sky grass macadam wind. A dress for mercy or grace, not innocence. The shift I wore when we advanced beneath the cathedral ribbons, with a veil of fog for the moments we need to blur. A borrowed optimism, flowers of glass. Your gaze on me like something to hold.

Photo Credit: Staff
Jill Alexander Essbaum

Jill Alexander Essbaum

Jim Zola

Jim Zola