Eating the Sky

After the storm we found pieces of the crackling sky lying in the rubble of a bomb-kissed office building-maybe it had once been a bank because the black marble floor sang and wept when the brilliant shards struck it. They melted the minerals above and below, gave everything a pearly, iridescent sheen. I didn’t want to touch it but Kia dared me to eat it instead and said it wouldn’t burn my lips if I put it on my tongue just right. I never refused a dare so I plucked the largest piece from the ruins with my teeth. They shattered as I tossed my head back and gulped the slick shine down and my last experience of taste was one of sugar and fire.

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Jessica Halsey lives in Arkansas and is working toward earning a degree in Laboratory Science while she writes books about werewolves and fairies, a well as many strange poems. She loves birdwatching and performing venipuncture. Her spark bird is the Rose-Breasted Grosbeak and her house words are, “Is there blood on the floor?”

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