Size / / /

Later, what she missed
was never the wings: the constant tending,
the endless preening, the heart-loss
of each and every feather-fall, but rather
the silence of the open sky,
the thunder of the raging storm,
of how sometimes on the clearest nights
she knew her wings had touched the stars.

Mari Ness worships chocolate, words, and music, in no particular order. Her poetry and fiction have appeared in Clarkesworld, Apex Magazine, Daily Science Fiction, Goblin Fruit, and previously at Strange Horizons, among other places. You can find a longer list of her work at, or follow her on Twitter at mari_ness.
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