The best thing about having
two eyes wriggling around in your
head like minnows is that they
have already learned to blur
and your retina is cracked and crumbling
into mildew that grows across water
like milk skin, water that soaks bunnies
to their bones, elixir to some
torn tissue but claims their
bodies all the same
The best thing about having
gray matter bouncing around
that bowling-ball socket is that
it has already learned to turn green,
DNA braids unraveling, dancer’s ribbons
fallen out of their plaits and
ripping into the wind, until
the wind is all that ever
was and is and will be
So those bunnies, bone-soaked,
will be food for the worms and
crows, gobbled up by the dirt
until all that is left is a
milk-white eye that looks more
like a marble and will sag like
a balloon
So that bowling-ball socket, ruptured,
oozes swing sets and pawprints,
frog graves and first loves
piano lessons and novel plots
and a cranberry relish recipe.
Out dribbles passwords and
birthdays, nightmares and
crochet stitches, forgotten
Build-A-Bears and how to spell onomatopoeia
It spills sunburns and pulled teeth,
roots growing into the ground like seeds
and another body to be built from its branches.
Writer | Lila Schlissel ’27 | lschlissel27@amherst.edu
Editor | Kei Lim ’25 | nlim25@amherst.edu
Artist | Cecelia Amory ’24 | camory24@amherst.edu