Heritage
In the beginning, the women were gooseberries. Plump on the vine, squashed under toe, murderous towards pine. When the rains…
Welcome to Our Home
I live in a haunted house. By which I mean I live inside your throat. By which I mean I’ve…
Propulsion
When she knew she couldn’t keep me, my mother struck a bargain with the ghost men haunting the sky. She…
Before She Knew Her Body Was the River
The pocketknife lies open in the dirt, and the snake—headless, milky-translucent muscle—curls in and out, while the girl watches its…
Maribel Is Not Here for You
She gets off the bus at the tenth stop. She walks one mile. She walks 280 more feet. She pays…
Sapphire Eye
I place Sygna, my late husband’s silver swan, into a box in the attic. She keeps me awake all night…
Symphony No. 7
Aunt Sylvia says it’s nothing, but she coughs wicked and that’s when I know it’s coming.Death. We never talk about…
Comorbidity
When you cook you use every pot, including ones that can’t go in the dishwasher, because I clean; when I…
Empty Words
In my language people call it ‘slippery fetus’, cannot be held, unravels like ribbon. You are ‘slippery daughter’, will not…
Look Sky, No Suburbs
Mom gets them out of Skokie when Laila is four. She talks about endless troops of kids and dead ends…
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