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I remember a house of dreams
I remember all the jack-o-lanterns in a row
laughing disconcertingly, their mouths collapsing inward
minds exposed.
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... her hair spills like spinach all the way down to her backpack, the top pocket where the bowl and the cinnamon estrange themselves from the coffee.
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At first I thought it was just a phase, just something he had to get out of his system. But it’s been four months now, and if anything he’s just getting more belligerent about it. He wants me to go to church with him. He wants the two of us to get baptize
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