- March 22, 2021
The summer I became the last girl in my father’s house, I read Gilead for the first time. I was between my junior and senior years of college, and now that both of my older sisters were married, I
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- March 20, 2021
I was bringing a friend; that was all I said. His name is Raleigh. Like North Carolina. He plays guitar left-handed like Hendrix or McCartney. Born and raised in Chicagoland. Glasses cover his powder-blue eyes that match the walls
- March 12, 2021
It’s Monday, 1:45, and six men and I sit in a circle with our German-trained psychotherapist, an imperious woman who reminds us that she is here to help or offer guidance only if we get bogged down and that
- March 11, 2021
aspirate. fizzle the “s.” sidestep a first kiss. sidestep last. west coast swing dance, pretzel in saddle shoes, hopscotch, stagger, oscillate on offbeat toes, forget how it goes. graduation. June, July, August. intermission, flings before last vanishings, …that’s it—soft satin Tuesday, swirl skirt, someone
- March 9, 2021
On the painting by Vincent van Gogh The trees are aflame.The stars are ablaze.The moon swirls as it dances through the night.The Milky Way curlsin light waves breaking on the shores of the far horizon.The steeple, the people in their homesalight
- March 2, 2021
Hunt The first doll I remember being given was of a sturdy vinyl construction: a big baby doll with molded plastic hair rather than lifelike hair and eyes that opened and closed. It was about the size my baby
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