“ ...both he and she were creek beds, quiet when they were full and quiet when they were dry. But when they were half-full, wearing a coat of shallow water, the current bumped over the rocks and valleys… Anna-Marie McLemore
“ No boy was ever so interesting to them as when he was interesting to someone else. Anna-Marie McLemore
“ They prickled her like thorns and leaves growing under her skin, and she felt the ache of a glass vine caging her forearm. They would crack, and the jagged pieces would cut into her wrists. Her blood… Anna-Marie McLemore
