Tuesday, December 6
CALLS TO ORDER It is September and there is no love cleaner: apples red as a ribbon knotted around the white dove's broken neck. As schoolchildren, we were brought into the orchards, biting into Empires and tossing what we didn't want, told that we always can. I grew too tall too early, and still, in mazes built of hay, pretended to not already see the routes to all their naked ends. (Stephanie Kaylor)