We held hands when we walked down the gingerbread path into the forest, blood dripping from our fingers. We danced with witches and kissed monsters. We turned us into wintergirls, when she tried to leave, I pulled her back into the snow because I was afraid to be alone.

Gossip is the foul smell from the Devil's backside.

I smile and play pretend through the Morning Show in the kitchen.

I want to make a memorial for our turkey. Never has a bird been so tortured to provide such a lousy dinner.

IT happened. There is no avoiding it, no forgetting. No running away, or flying, or burying, or hiding.

Momma said that ghosts couldn't move over water. That's why Africans got trapped in the Americas.. They kept moving us over the water, stealing us away from our ghosts and ancestors, who cried salty rivers into the sand. That's where Momma was now, wailing at the water's edge, while her girls were pulled out of sight under white sails that cracked in the wind.

They yell at me because I can't see what they see. Nobody can explain to me why my eyes work different than theirs.