Ferris Wheel We go up, up, up and the lights are a dancing spiral. You have wide, brown eyes. Our pinkies are brushing, and the string of a balloon is tied to your belt buckle. You shift in the metal seat. Funnel cake dust on your nose, your upper lip. Brown eyes. The lights are a dancing spiral and they reflect off your teeth. The balloon is battered by high-altitude wind, and your hair is whipping my face, and our pinkies are brushing. The funnel cake taste is in my mouth. You sniffle in the cold, brown eyes watering, and the lights make your balloon a disco ball. Eyes, disco balls. And my flip-flop is falling, and your teeth are chattering, pinkies are brushing, your hair is a dancing spiral. I shift in the metal seat, tied to your belt buckle, hair tickling my upper lip, your upper lip, brown eyes. You are a dancing spiral, and my eyes reflect off your teeth. We go down, down, down, and our pinkies brush.
Beeper Peddle is a writer and healer living on the East Coast. She lives with her partner and their beloved soul puppy. Beeper writes about sorrows, lies, and deep loves. When you read her work, you will dip down into her heart and end up in all manner of body parts. Should you find yourself reflected in these words, it is merely coincidence; however, it does not surprise her you share the same heart. Find her at bethpeddle.com and @beeperpeddle on Twitter and Instagram
Lydia Gompper (she/her) works in international book sales at Penguin Random House. She is a 2022 graduate of Princeton University, where she studied history and theater, and she currently lives in Connecticut with her husband.
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