Changelings are a whirlabout of cheeky holographic film, all danceaway-rapscallion savage butterflies who wear blue velvet and pink lace and stompy boots
We chew forget-me-nots spit out glow light while violinballet through tangled lanterned alleyways
tapfeeting on volcano edge as easily as sugar rings.
The relatives think they worldpopped us dribble their eyes and howl why we raised you, but our eyes are opal-shiny every day our glitter lips.
(We care for humans not for very long; they’ll twist our arms to make us feel.)
We rollerskitter away some streetlight midnight, sneaking turquoise rave mesh, turbinado to go. Glass bells berries tucked in braiding, and prod song-flickers chiming snort-shriek we pester the high-ups- and heave up the ivy. Spit expectance, elf-knot silk rope ladders of oughtta slapshould. We’ve got the hum echo, the cabochon currants. Burning flutter nutmeg slam dance between snicker and boom, growing leaves in our hair. Moss sprouts into stained-glass electric mosaics behind our barefoot scatterings. They’ll scrub until their fingers bleed.
Kayla Bashe is currently a student at Sarah Lawrence College, where she studies theater, creative writing, and history. She’s a graduate of the Alpha Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror Workshop for Young Writers. Additionally, several of her plays have been produced by local theater companies. Her lesbian mystery novel Graveyard Sparrow is available from Torquere Press, and her story “A Muse Afire” was featured in the first issue of Vitality Magazine.