Tag Archives: Alia Vancrown

Had that spiderling not crawled across my breast, a lone star’s first bright wink in defiance of a dark, emptying nest, I would not have thrown the sheets in water, or learned to kill. Fear condemns the spirit to close … Continue reading →

. . . When the girl was young and prone to the phraseology of nightmares – the felicitous are furious – her father never encouraged fenced-in sheep but the vision of a white canvas. She became the wolfish insomniac, splashed … Continue reading →

I used to be fluent in that higher language. Of the violent, Spartan sunsets. Of the hummingbird isolated among petunias cared for by loving hands. Those petunias were nebulae on Earth. The orbital bone, a telescope. I would speak to … Continue reading →