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Yvette Neisser


Shades of Dawn

What would you call this, after the sky has huddled around a half-sun on the horizon? Aurora,maybe? The one that silvers wet sand like the inside of a shell, as the ocean scoops out uncolored spaces at dawn's low tide? Or madrugada? If the dawn is ve [...]

Eighth Grade

The year Chris and Matt died on the tracks I cut my hair short and grew it long again, Mandi stopped talking to me three times, the Challenger blew up. The only year of my life when I brushed blue powder over my eyelids and underlined my eyes in [...]