Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Dear P., VI

As a girl, I cut fruit out of paper and set up
my own fruit salad. I cut out paper apples
shaped like hearts. Everything was open
air and seasonal, fleshy and ripened. What
happened was the consequence of some
action. What yielded depended on how
many apples I set down to cut. Now
everything is bearded and uncaged. Now
everything is steeple and sparrow. Even my
heart is a paper heart. It stutters in your
presence. It maintains its thin shape so that
it can easily slip in and out of you. And when
you laugh, that delirious laugh, it lifts with
the force of a bullet exiting your pistol.

-Victoria Change