River water strong like God’s hands holding fast to my bones, clasped around Achilles tendon: an anklet turned ball-and-chain. Slight as dirt under rugs, I am swept headlong into watery basement where direction is…
Then in the speckled dark, I stood in the sea wash. A ghost voice like a vast exhalation wailed from your grave, Father, and it caught in my mouth —…
She was the one who wanted to leave. The breadcrumbs her idea, too. She thought, once missing, we would be missed, sought, found. She thought inside the heart could be…
For Cathy After you wrote Beelzebub, again I saw you bird-scattered at high altitudes in all of my futures. The voices told you to live above the tree line, to…
We travel a gray line that makes a hard barrier between us and the depths of earth, the metal frame of car another way of dividing nature from itself. Dashes…
“Always throw salt over your shoulder, keep rosemary by your garden gate: plant lavender for luck: and fall in love wherever you can.” –Alice Hoffman “Practical Magic” Sunlight, a dash…
I am sure he will know me. Father wagers he will not, Certain enough to tether my Future, my life, to a Game of chance. (Father never asked me…
They named Jane Doe Ophelia for the flowers they found sewn under her skin, autopsy rose-pungent; incision-less and blossoming. Body turned wilted terrarium. A disturbed ecosystem. In life she’d been…
Papa, you tailor your trousers with spider silk. So many bottled nectars on bronze carts flank your marble table, pour down the slender throats of your petal-gowned women. Papa, I…
Her eyes weren’t open when the wolf came to her. Neither was her pillow damp with dreams. He entered through the spaces in between her clasped hands and the rose…
Gingerbread House Lit Mag 