wind through coastal hills enough chill keeps pomegranates smaller tart picked when thick skin splits she pulls on crack lines lifts yellowish membranes to read nearly undecipherable architecture molded to asymmetry seed chambers libraries of red juice between her teeth to swallow the bared seed or spit all other fruit decodes like peach pits split into clear poison but garnet… Read more →
A father held his toddler over a small quad of soil while she urinated. Her little feet, encased in roller blades, stuck out like two useless tools. Margot stopped telling me her story and said, “I wish I could pee anywhere.” I suggested that she could. She insisted: “No one can do anything they want anywhere.” Margot had just returned… Read more →
Steam whispers from the stove. You and I shuck corn, ripping away husks, revealing ears and ears. It was always summer then. Then there were no more summers. Drop them into the water. They do not know enough to scream.
“Aren’t we enough?” You’re asking me. I’m pulling at the dog’s white hairs that find themselves wedged everywhere, even under our skin. I wish they were thorns. I wish they were pricking deeply enough to pull from me something better than “I don’t know.” I feel like I’m looking at you through pool water. I think blue raspberry Kool Aid… Read more →