Last night I dreamed I ate a butterfly. I didn’t mean to. She flew into my mouth against my will, got stuck in my teeth. For hours I was pulling out parts of her, wondering how she got to have those wings.
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Ella Bogdanova
Drop by drop I mourn the sea.
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UNTITLED 2.0.
Instead of picking my garden for weeds, I have plucked the insatiable ones, the littlest-flowering ones, the ones winking blue; I've dropped them into a mason jar and I let them cross-pollinate and I planted them, and I spun around, idiotically enchanted as I scooped the falling rain into plastic bags.
By Ella Bogdanova3 months ago in Poets
Center Stage with Paul Stewart
*** I'm keen to republish the interviews I did for my series with Vocal creators. It's been a few years and I thought it might be nice to revisit these wonderful conversations. I'll be releasing them one at a time for a few weeks/months.
By Heather Hublerabout 3 hours ago in Interview
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