1. Fairy Land
    Fairy Land
    By Ashley Wu
When I was young, I often dug my small hands deep into the mud. 
Only after it rained, and only to see how far my fingers could go, 
Smeared pieces of dirt, damp pieces of grass, and the loose, sandy sediments of grey and brown pebbles pressed against the caps of my bare knees; 
Days were spent chasing after caterpillars and squishing them between my thumb and pointer finger, and the child-like innocence of surprise when the birds in my backyard soared away, 
My mother laughed at my eyebrows knitted in confusion and sweetly called me ‘honeybee’,  
And said that someday when I grow up I’ll fly away, too, 
But my wings were made of plastic; flopping against my back as I trotted along the crowded stage in the annual elementary school plays, 
And yet even after then, honey never dripped from my lips, and pollen wasn’t spread from my fingertips— 
I was a wallflower, not the tallest of flowers, and with age, my dreams were left and only continued existing in that childhood garden, softly buzzing.
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