What I want to marry by Lydia Palmquist
- Rambling oak branches that curiously reach this way and that, like energized neurons trapped in a cerebellum.
- Distant city lights, which sparkle like the white of an eye against the darkness of a deep, blue sapphire iris.
- The sound of the train in the early morning, its voice like the murmur of distant thunder.
- Rich purple and light pink clusters decorating an emerald green bush, their lilac scent sweet and inviting.
- Wooden doors that open to rows of aged pews, where the lost soul leans on the pulpit.
- The giggling melody of a goldfinch as it flies over hunched-backed sunflowers.
- Or a deep, powerful laugh that rises from the core and echoes through an empty tunnel, filling the abandoned solitude.
- The golden waves of wheat that confidently stretch towards the sky to be blessed by the sun.
- Turquoise waves of salt water pounding against a gilded shore as constant as blood coursing through the body.
- A moment like you.
