You are my sunshine, so stay quiet in the moonlight while I consume you like a slow poison, ready to die, but waiting to attain
more loveNobody tells you that love can survive the relationship it was supposed to save. We are taught the opposite. Love is presented as evidence. If
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We met, strangers at a local gallery, in front of immaculate skies, twenty pintos, manes flying second to last light flung from canvas. That
more loveSo, I uh, got married the day after Christmas. For health insurance. It was cold as balls that morning, and we had to wait outside
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Maybe my father never liked me. Maybe I never liked him. I was born in 1960. I’m fifty-eight now and he is long gone. Our
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It’s funny, when they met, how unremarkable it should have been. The bar smelled like limes & the stale press of bodies, & she was
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I hold her negative image between my fingertips. I study the X-ray of a face loved and hated many times– the alabaster dots replacing those
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We had traveled all day and part of the night. Nashville, the midpoint— eight hundred miles behind us, eight hundred more to go. We were
more love1. What’s it like to be so loved? I ask my sister this. I don’t like it when you ask me that, she answers, and
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The garden at the edge of the village did not belong to anyone, yet everyone tended to it. Old Marigold knelt there every morning, her
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She barely knew him when the package arrived. No bigger than a shoe box. So heavy she already resented whatever it contained. “Sociopath” she’d called
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She creeps up on you when you least expect it. You watch her waving you goodbye, rewind the moment in your head now and then,
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I mustn’t force others to walk on egg shells around me As love turns back into friendship, sanity can’t fracture. I need time to process,
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We cannot walk in meadows I kick aside rubble in the shelter. Shrapnel from incendiaries plays a piano tune on the outside walls. I think
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