Eliza I. Gilbert

Mar 1, 2024 | kenyonreview.org | Eliza I. Gilbert |Christine Imperial |Peter Kazon

After the fire it rains dandelions and we wear the fall like coats of paint on some small immortal toolshed. The game is this: You are a snake charmer. I am a pine cone. No tag-backs. Our father knows Latin but forgets that a burnt tongue is a temporary death sentence. So we stay outside. In the game.