I saw a velvet tomato and I woke up in the attic of my childhood home surrounded by bolts of fabric holding a pin cushion and I remembered my mother as a brunette. The wet insulation is suffocating and I can feel the dampness under my feet. It’s grossly warm and the marinated air feels like I’ve stepped into an abandoned terrarium.
Seamstress
Kelly Fowler · poetry · To Longfield Drive