Maybe a Butterfly Will Sit on Us
But every day we also hoped something would change, that our Mortuary House would have dainty laced curtains and a round table in the center draped in white table cloth.
JAKE
Were-Teen Dreams
What if...?
Goldfish
Living is like a turtle shell growing around a plastic bag
spring
in an ancestral language i never learnt
Draft 1/Draft 5
I write creative nonfiction, and that means that I lay in your arms and think about how I would describe it, our bodies next to each other in the dark while it storms outside, how I ask you to leave the fan off so we can hear it.
Doctor Storm
I am here because I can’t sleep when it’s dark, / maybe in an hour I will be tired.
Exposition
I survived a knife between my ribs, / strings cutting into sponge-berry flesh, / blooming rose wound around my wrists.