In a Warp Of Reality And Time

I am a child of the earth
running full tilt through the grass
until the world is askew
and I tumble and am cradled by the mud
ragged clothes stained with sunsoaked green
I am wild, tangle-haired and pink-cheeked
the scars on my knees whisper stories to any who approach
but will draw a map if you ask nicely
I eat fruit from the trees,
let blood-red juice spill down to my skinned elbows
and toss the pits to the creatures waiting in shadows
my friends are those who nobody else can see
we talk in a language nobody else can understand
and decide that the meaning of life
is the meaning and the life and drinking the midnight dew like liquor
and I’ve never known existence in any other way
and I’ve never not existed
and if sometimes I catch a glimpse of my reflection
in the unbroken glass of a puddle
and see a solemn stranger staring back
I can trust the earth to fade the picture
just a little more.

Rory Baskin

Rory Baskin is a high school student in California with a passion for creative writing. Her work is published or forthcoming in Trouvaille Review, Cathartic Literary Magazine, and Petrichor Magazine. She is also an editor for Flare Journal.