Untie these knots; unbind these silken cords, and let my heart beat freely. Let the blood return to sleeping limbs. Remind my skin— re-teach me how to feel. Just let me breathe, and I will take you in, your breath and mine entangled—intermingled—each exhale a testament to what we have enjoyed: my name upon your … Continue reading Reweaving


When we were small you pushed my Radio Flyer down the hill. It landed in the brook, dented and wheels up. I dragged that broken thing around until it fell apart. Should have guessed then what you would do to my heart.

Blue plate special

He only cooks when he's angry. Seared scallops. Chicken, breaded and pan-fried. Anything that sizzles, to drown out my excuses. Tonight it’s steak, blackened, medium-rare. He serves it up in silence and I eat. Each mouthful tastes like ash. Each bite burns.