I read someone found 4,000 year old yeast
and with it, made a loaf of bread. You can’t deny
this proves time travel is real.
So soon, when it might be
June, I will forget
to flip the calendar marking ONE YEAR
UNTIL OUR WEDDING!!! circled in Sharpie.
The end of a sentence cosplays a question,
a rule I can break into tradition like bread
yeast rising from a dormant sleep. Yes,
fermentation is a kind of time travel,
crumbs finding my mouth a manifestation
of what others knead. It has been thirty years
since my parents got married,
brought back a bottle of wine
from their honeymoon in France. Over dinner,
they pour my empty glass full
of Rothschild. I sip and fill myself
with time. This time
I remember you spilled wine
across our counter, quickly
gathered kitchen towels only for me
to ask you to wait, to watch, look
how the marble can’t turn red without us.

Madeleine Corley (she/her) is a writer by internal monologue and 1/4th of The Newsledder. Her work has been featured in HAD, Folio, Olney, Moist, among others. Check her out at madelinksi.com or on Twitter @madelinksi. One day she’d like to own a Mystery Machine.

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