By Caroline Reddy
I want to see serenity in our eyes as we explore our souls so that I don’t have to retreat when the amber leaves fall… the Eastward wind is swift lifting up the hems of a purple bohemian skirt and I remembered all the losses the stairs and the smell of death— I collapse to the floor for those neuron memories trail off... I clutch the beige ruffle carpet and watch the paisley designs play across cloudy eyes. I want to continue to expand into the wilderness and hike through Buttermilk Falls: see the rattlesnake shed its skin underneath the bare branches as the elders around us undress time releasing the whiskey breath into the ether, and the torn tent can slip out of my heart. Let’s exhale into this moment since the wedding bells were wiped off of the palms of my hand with fresh henna:…
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Aesthetic Dreams 
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