There are messages I have written to you that do not exist anywhere. Not in my phone, not in my inbox, not even in the
more loveThe chalk words, “Mom, come home,” have faded from the sidewalk, and the tents have slunk, along with the coyotes, back to the wash. We
more love“Remember this when you doubt how much I love you,” my husband says. We are naked. Scott is standing at the foot of our queen-size
more love“All the rivers run into the sea, yet the sea is not full; unto the place from whence the rivers come, thither they return again.”
more loveMama always tells me there’s nothing in this life worth crying for, but she cries every time I leave and every time I come back.
more loveIt burned my shoulder, having spat out from a small red flame. A small hole in my shoulder, all black and charred around the edges.
more loveI can’t tell you if I want to fall in love with one person. That information has not been disclosed to me. I once thought
more loveMy phone buzzes like a rude bumblebee on the nightstand as I lace up my boots, pull a distressed, oversized tee over my head, and
more loveCrumbling on the banks of a lake in northern Appalachia sits a cabin that belonged to my grandmother. At this moment, hunched in front of
more loveAt a state tax commission meeting in Pittsburgh, Joe stood out among the tax nerds. Tall and lithe with wavy locks that fell across his
more loveEven before my daughter Isabel died, my spouse and I were struggling. We seemed incapable of working through anything. Karen was downstairs when I took
more lovePhotos are the currency of our online affair. Brinkmanship. A coy smile quickly progresses to a yielding neck becomes bared breasts. We up the ante
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