sea foam mag
  • home
  • about
  • read
    • online journal
  • connect
    • submit
    • support
    • contact
  • home
  • about
  • read
    • online journal
  • connect
    • submit
    • support
    • contact

the glass slipper gave me a blister by mary b. sellers

7/4/2016

 
And at the stroke of midnight, I run:
leaving a shoe on the seventh or thirteenth step. It is cornflower blue: the color of
a blind child’s eyes. Down I go, down staircases of vertebrae, all the while
hearing the click-clack of the remaining kitten-heel rubbing blisters in my left
ankle. Red little moons I’ve rawed down to fine lean layers. They’re angry with
me, but everyone’s always angry with me. My feet: they shout; I say: shut up, will
you? I’m running from a man in the dark where everything’s all corners
. I’m always
waking up finding ropes of stars clutched under my breast, the moon hung all
wrong—upside down or inside out, looking like the fresh hemorrhage of
watercolor, covered in comet dusk or chalk and wearing the night like a velvet
dress. I wish I dressed as well as the universe. Let’s at least try. I’ve always been
obsessed with great wide spaces—agoraphobia my ass. Let’s shout from steeples
and nail down clover like American flags on moons. The point is to live like
galaxies from a long time ago and far away. Science fiction word crawl: I love you,
baby. Speak Skywalker to me.
And look good while doing it—running from the
prince. He’s a pest. I hope one day you and I can realize that. He says he loves
me (you) despite the loveyounot petal he plucked from the daisy earlier today.
The sky was low and the color of prep school uniforms. Too dark to be blue and
too light to be black. Repercussions for hearts made of straw—flicking Bic
lighters with thumbs like grapes left too long in the sun. I’m too old for the nail
polish I’m wearing. It’s the color of bubblegum stuck under desks with clumsy
​glitter chunks like fuchsia icebergs. All sloppy. I’m sloppy.
Not a creature is stirring, not even you. Goodnight, sweet prince. 
✱✱✱
Picture
Mary B. Sellers is pursuing her MFA in Fiction at Louisiana State University. Originally from Jackson, MS, she now lives in Baton Rouge with her dog, Daisy Buchanan. This past year, she was the editorial assistant at The Southern Review. Important activities include: drinking wine and eating tacos on a regular basis. She wants to be a mermaid when she grows up and has recently taken up crafting (a la friendship bracelets) for its therapeutic benefits. Check out her Etsy store, Moon Puck, her blog, and stalk her publicly on Twitter & Instagram. 
    Picture

    Archives

    March 2020
    February 2020
    January 2020
    November 2018
    October 2018
    September 2018
    August 2018
    May 2018
    April 2018
    March 2018
    February 2018
    January 2018
    November 2017
    October 2017
    September 2017
    August 2017
    July 2017
    June 2017
    May 2017
    March 2017
    February 2017
    January 2017
    December 2016
    November 2016
    October 2016
    September 2016
    August 2016
    July 2016
    June 2016
    May 2016
    April 2016
    March 2016

    Categories

    All
    Ceramics
    Collage
    Design
    Essays
    Events
    Fashion
    Flash
    Hobbies
    Illustration
    Interviews
    Multimedia
    Music
    Nature
    Photography
    Poetry
    Publications & Resources
    Reviews
    Tweets
    Visual Art

facebook
instagram
​twitter