Haley Winans

You left me smothered

in warm mayonnaise, snuggling with wilted

lettuce between two slabs of stale


sourdough. My disguise lounges

in the crumby pit of your snakeskin

purse. I’m pushed under a crumpled


lei and a crinkly bag of hotel

macadamia nuts so I’m not fondled

and confiscated by TSA’s clammy sausage


fingers. This claustrophobic

terminal reeks of old people

soap and bleach. The echoing cackle


of a bloated tourist shrivels

my petals as bulging suitcases

clunk down the slatted ramp. I want


to be in the loamy luxury

of your terraced backyard

surrounded by flourishing foreign


breeds that greet me like a divine

alien. I’ll grow to lick

your window with my leathery


leaves and convince your guests

that my ombré blooms

are criminally fragrant

and worthy of California’s golden poppy sun.


Haley Winans is a ceramicist, organic gardener, and writer from Annapolis, Maryland. She has poetry published in Scarab Literary Magazine as well as The Shore. As a senior at Salisbury University, she’s studying environmental studies and creative writing, with specific focuses on environmental justice, sustainable agriculture, and poetry. In all of her realms of interest, she is heavily influenced by the intrinsic connection between humans and the environment, and the impacts they have on one another.