After Hadara Bar-Nadav I unthread my fingers, which are glass braids I keep forgetting to put on, like akind of astronomy. A nub of nails lodgedin the end of a sky. I unthread the scalp from my face, a leg from a hip, red from a window. I unthread my moon-roofed shadow, trembled in jasmine. I unthreadyou from me, the… Read more →