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  • Writer's pictureAmber Shockley

Oocytes: Reflections

It happens like this:

Having children doesn’t cross your mind

for years, and then

You’re sitting across

from someone who is drinking a glass of red wine.

A longing to hike the Appalachian Trail

follows you around like a lost child in a department store:

not yours, but you want to take care of it,

help it find home, follow it home,

build a campfire for supper.

I keep loading ideas into a van

and letting someone drive off with them.

I can’t describe the kidnapper well. The policeman

yawns. The sketch artist twists my words:

He was drinking mustache. He had a wine.

I keep leaving the station with pills in my hand:

Seroquel, Diazepam, Lorazepam.

Once, I refused to come down from a zipline

platform. I was 13. My best friend ate her braces.

I didn’t trust Jesus. Not immaculately.

They sent a man to rescue me:

They sent a man to rescue me.

I’ll read you a story I wrote while I was waiting

for my order at a fancy restaurant I couldn’t afford:

Once upon a time, there was

Mistakes I’ve made march into the room.

A basic theory of interior design:

use a mirror to make a space look bigger.

Think of the universe: each star, looking glass.

...multiplicity, distance.


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