[32] Muse [They/Them], M.J. Iuppa

What a surprise it is, feeling the present in their presence.  A bright fizz, concealed in Italian soda, flirting openly on the bottle’s lip. You come closer, wanting to know everything about them—you imagine. They ran away from home at age 5, packing a small red suitcase with lollipop underpants and picture books, and only walked as far as the back yard.  They sat down under a trembling tree and began to read the fairy tales that would become their lives.  They tell you to listen: an old record hisses in green rain. No one has left the garden.

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