Alix MacLean

Whitehorse 1

as I watched the children’s laughter bounce off the fun house mirrors,
my thoughts were the shade pink cotton candy tries to be,
    but isn’t.
the loud colours went silent as the lines curved up,
guided by the principle of disheveled honesty;
the scene left a blueprint on my mind for days.

at midnight we climbed the broken ferris wheel.
I heard the out of tune piano in the distance
and realized
my life is cotton candy, but isn’t.

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