I gave him two months of my fingernails and toenails in a purple mesh sachet that formerly held a bar of scented soap. He had never said anything about toenails, but it seemed like the sort of thing he would appreciate. And he did.
Coming back to people after too many knuckled hours in books…and…it’s amazing to think I had two parents and they are now dead, in the shadow world, and maybe watching me continue to flail: look at bodies on the computer screen and eat too many tortilla chips.
Trying to kill my boyfriend’s dog. Drinking Mike’s Hard Lemonade
I want you to see this as romantic
Monica invites you to her church while you’re jumping rope. You’ve never been, and she tells you they mostly eat donuts and play, and talk about the bible sometimes, but just a little. Since donuts
The memories form a bridge, but the boards are loose. If I step in the wrong place, my ankle twists. I fall. And then everything comes crashing down.
Drew once wrote a poem about bridges. He gave
A unneutered preteen breeze / loiters around the trees / this morning.
Love is like a museum. You have to look around, experience things, and then leave.
Garielle's longest, most peculiar, most particularized book. A sure-to-be collector's item. Delivery 4-6 weeks!
