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Mothersexpand_moreI’m alive, Sarah thinks, the slam of his look going all the way in.
I dug a hole in you; I jumped (here is the church, here is the steeple).
Even as a child, I was skeptical—testing God when He wasn’t looking.
It is here I learn the speech of men. The speechless guilt of every swig.
The pupils are toothpicks. The lake is a sky with a circle beneath.
i was a wild thing down by the river, quiet like wild things are.
I told you how I’ve always been attracted to little violences.
He loves me. That’s half enough: he’s the only man around.
“I wonder what will stay longer,” Frick said. “Me or that headstone.”
After almonds after anchovies. After baguettes, a plate of cheese.
We had run out of every necessity. You name it, we didn’t have it.
Absence rarely makes the heart grow fonder, or so my mother said.
How large our muscles have to be to lift our wings even a single time.
There’s nowhere he can kiss where she hasn’t been kissed by the sun.
Imagine octopus, and keep the talk going through the chew.
My baby was calling to me. But I was welded to the mountain.
He was just a bully, uncivilized, out of control, and wanting to lash out.
He was just a bully, uncivilized, out of control, and wanting to lash out.
“What’s the shittiest thing you’ve ever done to someone?” she said.
i learned to save lives from a man who reminded me of my father
I walked that land with him, one and mingling, breaking into breath.
“You’re going somewhere now,” he said. “Up to the big smoke.”
“Being gay’s not a sin,” as if it's obvious why I don’t belong in church.
Imagine being able to calm the one you love best, who loves you best.
Perhaps the only way to see a whole body is to see one coming out of you.
She couldn’t have carried knowledge their kind would soon be extinct. The sediment came when it did, sealing them in their varied positions.
What right does an American mutt like me have to depict in fiction the lives of a Salvadoran family?
Brain an inkblot liquor stain until the heroine blinks the coma away.
I’ve never heard of Badgley Mischka (A person? Two people? Man?)
Our grandmothers were bakers and nurses, spies and traitors.
