Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • It's because we find ourselves here
    again, lost to the muck, sunk,
    we find ourselves like pilfered pearls
    washing in after many months in a pocket.
    When I painted turtle shells down at the fish pond,
    our initials shone bright pink -
    mother's toenails, grammy's lipstick,
    I stole the shade from the medicine chest
    and I've been stealing ever since.
    I found you in the shallows
    of the public swimming pool,
    slapping open palms against the surface,
    splash and scream finding your lips in the same moment.
    The water was much clearer then. There are seventy
    stones from years combing shoresides,
    and the collection grows: we find
    ourselves, covered in mud, winking
    with a flex of opalescence.
    • Share

    Connected stories:


Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.