The earth died slowly, like an old campfire flame. There was no chaos, no screaming, only a stone cold silence that grew with every passing hour. A skin-deep chill that seeped into the very veins of the planet, poisoning it until crops died out, rivers iced over, people struggled to keep warm, and the air was choked with frost.

Isley pulled her scarf over her face.

Every day was another trek...

The ribbons in my braided hair,

Your folded birthday card.

The little notes you leave for me

For lunchtime every day.

The woven threads of bracelets,

The cookies that you baked.

My knitted Christmas sweater,

Our scrapbooked memories.

The boxes on my bedroom floor,

The letters that you write.

The gifts left in my mailbox

Every Saturday or so.

The turkey at Thanksgiving.

The tough advice you give...

One summer night, just as the sun was beginning to dip beneath the horizon, I dreamed the waves were washing me away. Gently pushing and pulling me away to a world where things were different. But when I awoke to the sting of fresh mist tickling my nose, I was on the same wooden dock where I had first fallen asleep.

I was still sixteen.

I was still alone.

And it was starting to rain.

Clouds ...

I see him like the sun,

the diamond patriarch, with his

sparkling eyes, his angled jaw,

his boyish lips from which

his fiery sermon spouts.

Freedom, courage, beauty, truth:

his lacy sentences bounce

off the walls like music notes—

and worse,

my heart aches with each stunning word;

knowing they are not meant for me....

“Hey, how are you?” Elijah inquired.

To Bea these words conveyed an exquisite, though unexpected, emotion. There was delight in hearing them—imagine, Elijah, taking pause in his steps to converse with the likes of her!—and yet their mundanity caused her to wonder. Was he merely being courteous, or did he mean the question genuinely? And if it was genuine, to what extent? Should she respond th...

Onward, we press toward the fire, solemn as Thanatos, feet dragging in the ashes. I can feel the heat licking at my forehead, my cheeks, little wisps of my hair. My stomach rocks, but I push forward, even as the bulky hose in my hand pulls at my shoulder, straining the socket, threatening my grip.

I grit my teeth, hard. I have to keep going. After all, there’s no other choice.

No one believe...

Dull, the numbers flow

from my dying pen’s dry mouth.

When can I be done?...

He had been so charming at first, sweeping her off her feet and enveloping her in love. But now, he was no charming gentleman. He was The Hunter. And she was his prey.

It was the first month of summer, and the butterfly was young. Dancing among the wildflowers, she flaunted her fresh beauty, fluttering her painted wings in the sunlight for all to see. She saw how the children’s faces brighte...

The life of a dove is not peaceful.

I should know.

The last ten years have been anything but kind and graceful and good. Nature is ruthless. Violent. A goddess of struggle and strife. I’ve faced the winds, stiffened my wings against weeping rain and angry weather. Hid from owls and hawks and creatures with sharp eyes who wanted me jammed in their sturdy jaws, white feathers torn and stained...

My vast, celestial arms

embrace the Earth,

my lonely lover.

She maps and names

the freckles on my shoulders,

elbows, hands;

I notice her striving

to understand me

and I smile,

until I see her blue

fading to gray.

My sweet Pandora,

please,

don’t burn yourself too far.

There are boxes you

can’t open,

wonders you just

won’t see,

and I’d hate to say goodbye

to the only living planet,

the only on...