You were not there the night I saw stars, though I am certain I told you about the night I saw stars, about how I…
I was not there to witness this choice, though I had seen you make poor choices before—the destruction of homes, the death of the pet,…
Know that you are not the color of perfection. You are the color of hydrogen and oxygen and war and marriage and fast food and…
The removal of nature’s effects: not a darker nature, not the harshness of nature that we wear clothes and build cities against, that we air-condition,…
Claustrophobia is failure of projection: my face collapses into its grave. They rolled me into the MRI, panic-bulb in hand, an IV of valium in…
After one last pregnancy test, she returned to her seat to find that the cart with the egg custard tarts had passed their table and…
You hate the feeling of blue cotton. It’s the feeling of a day that goes too long. The flat blue sky is too bright. You…
Your forearms are made of daggers, but in a motel room they are made of intensity: I feel you like the ocean you feel me….
You lie naked on a motel bed covered with stuffed animals, and I sit in a chair watching you. With legs splayed, you select one…
We face one another on either side of a motel bed. You remove your dress, the black fringed one you wear without irony to weddings,…