My Body, Ms. Bey, LV

It should cost a billion to look this good—to look this much like yourself, ever changing.


A yellow bucket and yellow spade atop sand at the beach

Bonus Child

It’s easier to trash fairytales and racism than it is to face the simplicity of my conundrum: that I’ve inherited the defunct reality of a stranger’s manifest desire.

A small, vintage television set sits on a kitchen counter. The sun reflects off the yellow wall next to it.


You’ve been conditioned to witness the miraculous—seen every medical marvel flash before your eyes one thousand times on-screen—doesn’t she watch Untold Stories from the E.R.?

A picture of five light blue surgical masks scattered on a black surface

A Request for Accountability in Our Shared Spaces

Rather than placing the burden of care on the ill and disabled, we are asking that Bread Loaf support a community of care from the start, so the conference is accessible to all.

A child's hand holds a large brush on the side of a horse.

Horse Crazy

I have always been part rider, part horse. Ready to bolt, a sucker for a sugar cube, and I like to be groomed.

A braid of dark blond hair with a black ribbon tied at the end, with the ribbon loosely going out to the sides.

Hair and Teeth

The brown braid of a bracelet could be leather, not obviously hair until you get up close.

Looking down at the top of ten unopened soda cans. The cans are wet with condensation.

Soda Money

Note to self: When you grow up, men will dole out cash.