The body teeters on a fulcrum, one base pair away from disaster.

If I am alive now, it is because love will not stop flaying me open.

A bold choice to name an album after a song that was going to be hard to perform or get radio play.

The voice from our body, after all, is just a cover for the voice inside our head.

Will someone someday read this and know she was beautiful and good and kind?

Cartoons taught me to laugh at violence. To see it as pattern, rhythm, inevitability. But back home, the patterns were bloodier.