— After Claire Wahmanholm
By Gretchen Gales
C is for changeling, constantly chasing children, not your own. The chance a fairy holds your cherub in their chamber, never to circle your world. No choice but to raise them cold, charming enough to capably con another out of their own child. C is for chronic, ceaseless cacophony of crying out why why why and never knowing. Maybe your child, if it’s from the cosmos, will be seen again. Enough comfort, correct?