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Summer in Lorraine

By Jessica Mehta From Issue No. 5

Hot air balloons can only crash—

it took me fifteen years and five thousand

miles to watch nylon

candies en flambé

fall like parade castoffs

from the sky. In open fields, hands

sticky with crepe drippings, the lot of us

craned our necks and clutched our phones

waiting with hungry impatience

for the cascade of exquisite collisions.

About Jessica Mehta More From Issue No. 5