There are more emails from a series of strangers. They have questions. They’re confused by my branch on their family tree.
RECENTLY PUBLISHED
My Hair Is an Archive of My Grief
But it’s ridiculous to keep holding on to the past, holding on to hair that no longer wants to be kept.
The Perils of Girlhood
I’ve read numerous articles about the murders, searching for some shred of evidence, some hidden rationale for this crime, but the more I read, the faster the details fade, like water smearing ink on a handwritten letter.
Plans for Future Disasters
“We might be broke, but we’re happy,” Carlos says..."And we’re happy because we enjoy ourselves in the moment. You’re broke and depressed.”
Baby Fever
That I might never be anything but alone in my own body. In my own mind. That no one could ever make me feel whole.
When I Close My Eyes
When I close my eyes, the only things that have ever dropped from the sky in Gaza are droplets of rainfall. They nourish the gardens, they soothe the cracked, dry earth, they fall upon faces like a lullaby.
Asteroidea
It’s less a breaking than it is a detaching. The way they lose their arms, the way they save themselves, is by going soft.
