izzy

thunderstorms form in the bellies of mountains
wisps of cloud extend their fingers toward
the others, grasping and conjoining
disappearing into each others’ breath

the night breathes out, wet and satisfied
frogs glutted and singing for more
we waited until the cloud engulfed us,
linked hands and jumped

clouds fall upwards together
rolling and clashing as one great body
crackling through sky, running nowhere
until they disintegrate back down into the dirt

*

sarah

I pressed my crumpled brown paper bag face
Into my crumpled brown paper bag sheets
But my tears were a tomato sandwich
And they leaked, squashed and hot and sticky
To stain the bed with fat wet streaks

*