by William Bishop
Lying awake at night I decided her long teeth look like John Elway's— the grinning quarterback-thoroughbred, triumphant in the Kentucky Derby or Super Bowl. But lately, when she smiles, I no longer think of football lying awake at night. I think of two yellow braids, a red, fleshy laugh and lips to match. I think, laying awake at night, not so much of horse teeth, truth or dare or the fences we've hopped, but of eyes. Blue eyes.
And then it occurs to me as I roll over onto my back. It occurs to me like some sort of Tom Sawyer turning twelve. It occurs to me as I close my eyes and, for the first time, think what if we were to— just maybe, what if we pull out those pink ribbons, let it all unravel and forget about football and forget about braids. William Bishop was born and raised in Boise, Idaho. He spent two years as a missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Spain's Canary Islands. Graduating with a Bachelor of Arts in Humanities from Brigham Young University in 2004, he currently resides in Provo, Utah, while he works on a Master's degree in comparative studies from BYU. Since October of 2002, Will has been an active participant in The Poetaster Project, the university's informal poetry club.