Aunt Sylvia says it’s nothing, but she coughs wicked and that’s when I know it’s coming.Death. We never talk about…

When you cook you use every pot, including ones that can’t go in the dishwasher, because I clean; when I…

In my language people call it ‘slippery fetus’, cannot be held, unravels like ribbon. You are ‘slippery daughter’, will not…

Mom gets them out of Skokie when Laila is four. She talks about endless troops of kids and dead ends…

Each night, my soul flutters out of its husk and wanders between the stars. Through sheets of laterite and palm…

Shrapnel bores out of Daddy when he chops too much wood. They float to a place near his spine and…

Just as the Greeks hypothesised, my uterus traversed my whole body,  and yet in an absence of hysteria, she squeezed…

I’ve always thought life is more about what is unsaid than what is said. We live in odd gaps of…

1. It’s always night when they wheel us girls in, gowned on gurneys. Underground. They pull their masks up and…

Every summer, my flower collection expands with my lungs. I gather them before the solstice, because my mother always told…