The truth came to me through muddy hands and silly smiles.
In knotted laces, I learned patience.
And in cups neither of us can reach, I learned grace.
I learned laughter can brush off bloody knees,
And sometimes a hug can cure my loneliness.
I used to think myself unloved,
but my niece made me smoothie,
and my nephew gave me a nickname.
They asked why I look pretty
and if I read long poems in front of people.
There are nights they stay up waiting for me—
ask when I’ll be home,
ask if I brought blue Gatorade. As if to say
Did you think about me,
or Did you miss me too?

how to bleed a ghost

the problem with bodies is that they’re just too fragile. even something as bold as a ribcage can be crushed into tiny stars, bones magnified into gritty ash.

We Defy Augury

A frog body splayed under a bench spilled its entrails just for us, the only ones here who couldn’t read them. All the birds of the last few days now seemed to augur in the Roman way—where gods’ wills could be seen in their flight, their sound, their type and grouping.