Neighbors

My road quirks and climbs, its trees, one heavy at the hips, split in the middle. A neighbor’s home painted green and plum, like a bruise.           Peaches opens the door           to let the dog out           but never leaves the house […]

Henrietta

I tell Henrietta about my mother’s heartbeat and how I heard it in her womb. I think I’m lying, but as I speak, I feel it in my own chest, the bongBong of it, wavery through the saline sac. My hand, a tiny shimmer of ghost beside my cheek. I hear my mother first, then feel […]