Cassandra, California
And even a sunset feels doomed, all chewed up
blue and red like witchfire, like Roman candles
in July. A single callous spark could send
the entire county up in flame. Seven miles
from the base, she can still hear the shells
fall. On her back, she’ll watch the planes
scudding across the upturned bowl of sky,
crush them between her fingers like flies.
Kayti Lahsaiezadeh
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