Sonnet Written in Disappearing Ink You know how it is in dreams. The house is also an airplane. The airplane is broken. The airplane can still fly. The dining table is both outside the house and yet within. My brother is married to his ex-wife. I live there. We have bunk beds on the plane. The silverware’s all rusted but one knife. Three children carve a turkey in the rain. Then I’m awake in darkness all alone, the ceiling fan abuzz above my head. I watch the blurry blades in monotone before I grab the notebook by my bed. I write what can be true only in the night. My brother was so happy. My brother was alive.
Heather Truett is an MFA candidate at the University of Memphis and an #actuallyautistic author. Her debut novel, KISS AND REPEAT, recently released from Macmillan. She has work in Hawaii Pacific Review, Constellations, Rust+Moth, and others. Heather is represented by Hilary Harwell at KT Literary and serves on staff for The Pinch. Find out more at heathertruett.com or visit her on Twitter (@mmerubies).