I dreamed you a field of running horses, Selah. For you, Bianca, a balloon the size of the sky, my body a kite you can throw into the air.
Pull me by string and horse.
Tell me everything won't end in death. That everything doesn't end with February. Dead wildflowers wrapped around a crying baby's throat.
I've slowed my heartbeat to three beats a minute. I've redrawn the clouds into birds, a fox chasing them into the mountains.
I'm going to move my hand today.
I vomit ice cubes.
There's a ghost next to me.
Get up, Dad.

(Light Boxes)

Autor: Shane Jones