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with blood-tinted juice.
I can barely breathe with
them swelled up inside me.
Afraid to go out. Afraid to stay
in. Who knows what uncertainty will
strike next or what will happen to me?
IT’S ALL QUITE LOST
On Aunt Cora, who thinks,
because I’m her maid of honor,
I must be honored. I should tell
her how I feel, but I can’t bring
myself to mute her vibrant aura.
Even I, a total aura neophyte, can
make out the shimmer. Do all
brides wear an opalescent halo?
Liam’s family expected
a June wedding. (How cliché.)
But Aunt Cora didn’t want to
wait. What, did she think he’d
vanish, or curdle like old milk?
Or maybe she was worried
he (or she) might have a change
of heart? I don’t pretend to
understand. All I know is they
settled on a Saturday-before-
Christmas wedding. So now
she not only ruins the rest of my life,
she ruins the Christmas before
the rest of my life. Not to mention
Thanksgiving. Holidays will never
