Larissa Szporluk

Brilliance is a carcass on a snow-white beach. Envy never sleeps. I tell my children truthfully: a long red beard is breaking from the darkness scale. He’s chasing you because you’re new. Because he’s old and sees the town in dirty tones: violet sheep and wine-dark corn. He burns the evening rainbow like a wartime bridge until it’s charred and charlatans topple out of  robin eggs and pox  your happy window by capturing the ledge and chattering like X-rays that crash into your flesh.