chapter oneyou show up at our door like a Christmas tree, spinning so fast you smear the lights.Jan 3Jan 3
Published inHuman Partsripeningsweat licks our ankles and you lick the dull of your knife.Jun 21, 20241Jun 21, 20241
forcing itgather seventeen of your most important moments and iron them until the edges gleam. present to a roomful of bored onlookers.Dec 15, 2023Dec 15, 2023
good summerbecause it’s the first year no one fought up north. because the days were ripe immediately — and we didn’t even have to squeeze.Sep 15, 2023Sep 15, 2023
love your faceShe shows them she loves them by peeling off their faces and affixing them to hers.Oct 30, 2022Oct 30, 2022
summer heatit’s 8pm and the buildings are still sweating. their windows blink their heavy lids, weighed down with heat exhaustion.Jul 23, 2022Jul 23, 2022
places i’ve been and lives i’ve livedthe little brick apartment with the dirty carpet. an oversized dresser and 150 square feet, all your own. the true meaning of solitude.Jan 12, 2022Jan 12, 2022
girlswe were always at Olio waiting for the next two people to fill the seats at our four top. every night we wore black.Jan 5, 2022Jan 5, 2022
covid christmasthe water between New York and New Jersey looks like it should be ice this time of year. it doesn’t feel like Christmas.Jan 4, 2022Jan 4, 2022
new yorkfirst there’s the couple crawling across the white tablecloth just to deliver the punchline.Jan 3, 2022Jan 3, 2022
heading homedo you remember age seven, coming up from the pool for a milkshake? before you’d tasted coffee? before your parents’ secrets?Dec 29, 2021Dec 29, 2021
we’re backthere they are again. the lids of coffee cups lining the sidewalks, three-day-old grounds and a kiss of lipstick on the rim. haven’t you…Jul 19, 2021Jul 19, 2021
our roomthat room was where i inhaled hundreds of late summer nights through the cracked window; cicadas and suburban silence.Jun 19, 2021Jun 19, 2021
forwardi like to see how far i can go. first the water, then the highway. next, i’ll cross it.Jun 3, 2021Jun 3, 2021
1pmi’m eating rice at my kitchen counter while the ceiling fan whips a too-cold breeze around the room.May 6, 2021May 6, 2021
morningthe sky is just beginning to blink its eyes blue, and a lawnmower is vibrating itself awake.Apr 8, 2021Apr 8, 2021
explorationthe bed was an island we’d trek across daily. together, we unearthed thousands of patches of cool sheet and fourteen million stonehenges…Mar 3, 20211Mar 3, 20211
til death do us partI’m leaving you, she announces over breakfast, and he asks her to pass the toast.Oct 5, 20201Oct 5, 20201