Lean into wind, Shoshanna. Let it kiss the bronze bend of your brow. Let this, my hand, unworthy, flighty animal, rest open on your thigh. Lean into wind. Lean from me like a sail. Your laughing throat corded. Your own strong hands taut in the sodden weight of my long hair. Lean from me. Lean. I’ll follow, dog, dumb ox, yours, woman, yours alone.
Lianna Schreiber is a twenty-four year old writer born in and based out of Romania.
Litehouse 