By a crystal creek in the grassy wood,
A sun-warmed cabin nestles among lilac and daisy.
Gingham flutters under sighing wisteria
And wicker cradles forget-me-not
Beside sun-sparkling chamomile tea.
a fly thrashes desperately, then falls still in the cup.
By a half-raised window veiled in gently swaying lace,
I work wood across wheat,
Kneading my love into butter and berry.
sweat beads on my brow and i smear it with red-stained fingers
Oven accepts offering, and I dust my hands
Across the white linen apron tied with a bow at my waist.
making a scarlet mark among the bleach burns
I wander barefoot to the riverbank
nettle stings my bug-bitten ankles
And take a seat upon the water-worn pebbles.
mud soaks my skirt, wet cloth sucking hungrily at skin
Sunlight paints the water white as the clouds above.
and burns my arms until they peel
Beneath verdant willow I wade into the river,
frigid water shocks my legs and numbs my toes
Golden hair pooling like liquid sunlight around my head.
my dark roots have grown shamefully long
The current pulls me gently into its embrace
suddenly my feet cannot touch the bottom
And I am drifting downstream like a fallen flower
i don’t know how to swim
Splashing water makes glittering diamond-drops,
Then the river smooths again to perfect, placid glass.
and the pie is burning in the oven
Allison Liu is an emerging writer currently studying in the Boston area. She can often be found working on her novel, photographing the unusual, and conducting bioengineering research. Her work has appeared in or is forthcoming in Yellow Arrow Vignette, The Violet Hour Magazine, The Foredge Review, Crashtest Magazine, Cloudy Magazine, and elsewhere.