I myself should never have been born
The sin is existing.
Empty vessels make the most sound, I think, as you rip the fairy lights off the handrail.
There is so little left of the tomato plants.
Every so often, they add a tattoo in honor of some long-forgotten love.
four-thirty a.m.
Her brown eyes, how a fig considers itself.
Should have found a job by now; should have slept in the night; should have boiled old coffee before noon.
Now that the Israeli has left, it falls on me to make the salad.
The storm passes without snow. The car waits loyally in the back lot.
Live the rest of your life from one worst case to another.
It recommended soft porn, as gentle prodding and petting parent to parent might calm and soothe the kid.
Try not to see your own predicament in every fucking thing.
Millions of Americans have been affected by identity theft. It’s probably the greenhouse gases.
I imagine that undressing a color, though, would be so much like peeling a memory away from the grey and the white matter of your brain.
how does an afternoon turn on its axis?
Long after midnight, we’re talking about our first time
He has stories that I am not in anymore. It’s healed this way.
We stop doing dishes while a mile unwinds from the tree outside.
I count my homes— those of my scattered youth the sanctuary of our young family the intermittent rest stops of apartments and vacations.