Volume 10, July 2014

Annmarie O’ConnellView Contributor’s Note

The five o’clock shadow wears white overalls

and nervously smiles toward me in the crowded
grocery store. His cart full of delicate cookies
and bright red fruit. He doesn’t know that
I have already left this moment, even when
it is happening, I am as anonymous as the smooth purple city,
the brown hat squeezing the small head of a boy.
Everything up to now is a secret
with teeth and bones
trying to climb onto an old table
just to pull the switch on
my body, to light it up
like a yellow leaf.