There is no return.
SOAR BY KRISTEN HENDERSON 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 104
Swing, swing. Fly, fly.
That’s all she knows, so she flies.
Her tie-dyed fedora floats into the rainbowed sky.
There is no return.
She almost loses herself.
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Pleased that she didn’t or wishes that she had.
At apex, her maroon-lipsticked mouth takes in a collection of gnats, which transform into a st…