I am at the front and back of

it, but the sides pour away

before I reach them. They

are like sand sifting through

fingers, castles that settle as

they dry. I am like the

boy with his finger in the dam, but other

leaks are sprouting, little

fires of water, little

strings of silver shooting out.

I try to hold you together, but

you are Beauty and the beast

and I can only reach the


by Cher Bibler