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People talk this way who would prefer the earth parceled out in standard lots.

She had seen him take the crop to a girl for doing nothing at all.

A man jostles my stride to the street, no shoulder on which to move.

They need to be named, loved, then unnamed to be seen once more.

I grip the handlebar and pin my eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable crash.

I want to dispute that depression is by definition pathological.

The woman who is known only through a man is known wrong.

Anytime I drifted off I wished to wake up against a cold, silent body.

Struggling to find my budget hotel, my stress rose as the sun faded.

They tried to kill us, my sisters, mother, and me; I still have the scars.

Black wings thrash in trees, then strafe me low, my head their devil.

Our remarks must be tempered by a sense of cooperation.

You and me is as good as anybody else, and maybe a damn sight better.

“You think you know me,” the girl spat back, locking eyes with Esiha.

Here’s the part where you pledge devotion until death, I told myself.

X wants, but Y gets in the way: the equation of desire and obstacle.

I’d chosen three hundred boys out of the best Israel had to offer.

Until now the man had not really lived, but simply existed, to be sure.

After days of torture in secret prisons, they were about to let him go.

“We have heard that this blackened smear is art. We do not see it.”

Americans didn’t invent courage, but we are no strangers to it.

The house of our relationship is a fort. Blanket fort. Tree fort.

We entertain them. We kiss and spit and strike. We’re always changing.

She could not have known how uncannily she resembled me.

All these and security were within. Without was the “Red Death.”

Any society that fails to protect its children is in terminal decline.

Sometimes a you is a lover, but he is not my lover. He is looking at me.

He handed us sticks of dynamite, rolled in wax paper like taffy.

He always talked of making money with the air of a connoisseur.