In the new little face, she searches for her husband’s nose, the prominence of his chin.
RECENTLY PUBLISHED
Prey Behaviour at P.S. 113 Claremont, 1979
We are the wolves of third grade. She is a rabbit. We’re supposed to tear her apart.
Because we talk about ending our relationship on a holiday,
Gravity ties
us to guide ropes, before the sycamore
trees collapse in our chest cavities.
“Aubade” & “From My Grandmother on My 18th Birthday: An Erasure”
My father is dead and my sister,
68.
