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Concise Prose. Enough Said.
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When She Falls

This is the grass we gathered into sweet bundles and dried in the wind bending the branches weighed down with fruit cupped in my hand and under the smooth skin a surprise of white flesh like the pale skin stretched across his bony chest and the brown of his hands sliding along the flat of my belly and moving inside me toward a swimming fish that gasps as it crests and glints in the sunlight and we carry it home between us a sliver in a bucket banging our knees and he says “two hands, two hands” but I raise mine and let go of the branch and I am flying graceful like a crane until the earth swoops to meet me and I wake up to my mother unraveling the perfumed knots of her long hair and singing the breathy song she hums as we walk through the long swishing grasses and behind us the trampled stalks rise and the path is gone like a breath.

 

Kiko Sato is a student. She speaks four languages. She can sit on her hair. She has only one freckle.

Photo courtesy of Dave Sackville

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