- When you confessed you thought ladybugs couldn’t fly
as we watched one land on the freckle on your left hand
that you use to dot the i in notes you scribble in Sharpie,
A. Who did you trust enough to tell you they can’t?
B. Did you trust me enough not to laugh at you?
C. Do you think the ladybug was just as curious about us?
- When you told me the story of the moon and how it was
once a star that lost its light when it saw the sun then sat
there blind and caused the waves to push apart Pangaea,
A. Were you the sun or the moon?
B. Were you the waves or Pangaea?
C. Is it true?
- When you stared at the ground when we walked side by side to your car
after impromptu ice cream sundaes but said how much you love the sky
and how you wish you could fly just so you could touch the fading mauve,
A. How did you know the exact shade of the clouds?
B. Did you know that I’ve been teaching myself to fly?
C. Would you be willing to let me teach you how?
- When you tell me the secrets you hide away in the pockets
of your favorite jacket that you only wear on special occasions
and you let me try on once and told me I looked beautiful,
A. Will you look me in the eyes next time?
B. Would you be able to hear the ladybug now in the palm of your hand spread her wings?
C. Could you tell she’s set to soar straight toward the moon?
Inklings Literary Magazine 