A Spell for Beginnings
Not with a fizzle, but with bangs
from the pop-rocks
from each of your taste buds.
your mouth for me to see.
They swam in a pink, inky dark galaxy
like the neon speech bubbles in the
comic books we flipped
through. Your teeth
cast a shadow
over their universe.
We stood in one of the pockets
of light from the streetlamps
that were placed
on each corner of our old city.
I held on
to my half-torn hot pink package.
It’s edges were jagged
and misplaced from where you ripped.
You wanted the green one.
You said kiss me
and I did. You slid your green sugar
onto my tongue.
And so I listened, mouth open,
waiting for the candies to fizzle out.
Erin Outlaw received her B.A. from University of North Texas in Creative Writing and Journalism. Her poems have been published in North Texas Review and Poets Reading the News. She has been awarded the Ana Prothro Creative Writing Award and The Burlagee Family Award. She now lives and writes in Texas.