….safe.
by
Shannon Barber
In the sun, in June you are safe. But, it grows. Cradled in light and heat, you are free, safe. There is no reason for the world to slip and slide on the periphery of you. No reason for the chill between your thighs.
You will not scream. The darkness will not come. And yet the cold place grows inside.
This was such a chilling piece and you used contrasts so effectively. The subtext is brilliant.
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