It was one of those first nights in the dark of the kitchen when we sat nearly naked on the tile drinking the last bottle of cheap champagne. The dogs uncertain what to make of us licked our faces and curled themselves at our feet. I knew then. Continue reading
Monthly Archives: October 2012
Day 36 of 35
Brother At four you were fascinated with the length of my adolescent blonde hair, how I piled it high at the top of my head. You would climb into my arms, twist it, and say, “doorknob,” as if you could open me and crawl right in. When I put you down, you would settle for … Continue reading
Day 35 of 35
When the dog whines in the backyard, I close the window and wait for the squirrel that has caught her eye to climb out of sight. She will come to the kitchen door soon ready to sulk, never quite understanding that she is the predator and he the prey. Continue reading
Day 34 of 35
I’ve tried, but I’m exhausted and my brain appears to not be functioning. Continue reading
Day 33 of 35
This morning he keeps me hushed in drifted cotton– the windows sealed,the birds at bay– and he asks about the dream, the furrow in my brow. I tell him of the apocalypse I can never stop and of the python that strangles the mallard duck on a pond in a park a mile from where … Continue reading
Day 32 of 35
Not today Continue reading
Day 31 of 35
1. The summer has gone native here. Our autumn generally subtle, our orchards extinct, few worry, except at night when the houses won’t let go of the heat. 2. It is a winter scene— a bridge made new by snowfall. I am bound by the black and white of it and envy the photographer his … Continue reading
Day 30 of 35
Tattoo Before he breaks the skin, he asks if this is my first. Much of my body exposed, I wonder how he doesn’t know the answer; how he could suspect that I have secreted another? We choose a sentimental space between spine and shoulder-blade, above my heart and hidden from the casual observer. When he … Continue reading
Day 29 of 35
Catarina squawked as the door opened. Amber felt the warmth of the small room reach out as she walked up the steps. Josie moved aside to let her in, and immediately she was wrapped in the nearly-uncomfortable heat generated by the fire. “She doesn’t like the cold,” Josie said. “Being tropical and all.” Amber knew … Continue reading
Musings / poetry / Uncategorized / Writing
Day 28 of 35
He twisted paper into rose, a parlor trick I had seen before Continue reading
Untempered Glass 