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A Velvet Giant

a genreless literary journal

  • about
  • submit
  • masthead
  • archive
  • Issues
    • Issue 10
    • Issue 9
    • Issue 8
    • Issue 7
    • Issue 6
    • Issue 5
    • Issue 4
    • Issue 3
    • Issue 2
    • Issue 1
  • Search
 

Google Search: _____________

 

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I am waiting

 

you are the illusion of a room. bones in broad daylight, names I can’t say right, the way I walk on the side of the floorboards so that they won’t creak.

when you speak, I breathe through my mother’s Ophelia lungs, and I am swimming. the climbing vines of wisteria, waterfalls between her ribs, leaf litter collecting. and I wonder when you will furnish soil.

sometimes I crawl into my nunnery, drape myself as a curtain in the corner, become a well for you to drop pennies in, curl up, a puppy, at your feet.

sometimes you look at me like you’re trying to perform alchemy so I wait to see you transform me

 
 

 
 

Sara Cline is a native of Dallas, Texas. She is currently a full-time student of psychology and English at the University of Texas. She was recognized as a finalist in the James F. Parker Fiction contest for her short story, "Dinner's Served”.

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