in a drawer by my bed.
I let it stay locked,
and the sunlight points to it
every afternoon,
but I don't open it
because just knowing
it is all there,
so much all of it
is my gift to myself
because you left with everything else.
of me, little by little little bites sinking into old wounds every time and I let her because just like the trees open their hands to the...
is write little books, is what I heard the husband of a friend say once. that's all she does, all day he said and she laughed and I...
Bring in your dead, she said. So I dragged my lovers out of the warm cocoons of my sheets out through my crooked legs and my sweat-soaked...
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