Molly Kirschner '16
Air hovers blank as page. Mirror glass shatters;
it rains. Sounds like cracking oysters. Looks like pearls
dropping off a necklace. Rolling.
The skin, it drips for this. The hair, it tangles
in itself like ringlets of smoke.
The clavicle lifts with the breath.
Butterfly, she hides in falling orange leaves.