Becoming many-celledfrom whitish to pale tan,consuming the soft crystalof my confiscated skin,the alien searched me.Like a probe sent into the outerhemispheres of my consciousness. I searched back.I wondered intoits yucca-sized eyes,and the room became calm, a cream-colored scent of smokerising as the holy spirit does for Baptistson Sunday mornings when they really need it. George Cassidy Payne […]