Where did you go when I had my back turned and my hands in the sink, washing the dishes we dirtied on this evening of excess, and you said my soup made your groin ache and your chin tremble, and I leaned forward, laughing, and put my hand on your arm, then I stood toContinue reading “Eating Alone”
To keep the sweet bird that flutters in my breast at small things from forever turning its head to the softness beneath its wing.
The photo I lost is black and white, has a crease from side to side and odd, scalloped edges. Below the crease are my father’s skinny ankles and below them, his slippers. He sits on the couch and stares at something out of sight in his bathrobe late at night with me, the last ofContinue reading “The Photo I Lost”