“When you tell [the grown-ups] that you have made a new friend, they never ask you any questions about essential matters.” —Antoine de Saint-Exupery, The Little Prince
What shape do her eyes make when she’s not yet smiling?
How does it sound when she’s ready to stop feeling cross?
Which yellow is hers? Is it the same as yours?
Who calls first when you decide to meet?
Are her hugs bright? Or thoughtful?
What is her opinion about sunlight on the underside of leaves?
Where are her landscapes?
Tell me the way her hands move when the work is going well.
Kimbol Soques has been writing since before she got her first typewriter at age 3. In poetry, she strives to pare down to the bone, using white space like breath. Her work has been included in Festival Writer 2:13, Texas Poetry Calendar 2016, and di-vêrsé-city 2015 and 2016.