91Sep 26, 2014
Deep, empty night, and we brush our teeth, looking across at each other with eyes like moons. We both feel hollow-carved, like vulnerable husks reaching hungrily for rest. I have no thought except for the feel of the sheets beneath my legs. And then, a crash. Kevin and I look at each other briefly, asking […]
92Sep 12, 2014
Sometimes life strips us clean of words, and we sit together, quiet. And maybe it’s that way so we’ll stop to listen. We walk through the rain and into the funeral chapel, gathering damp hugs on our way through the door. We sit first, and then we stand, winding in long lines past photographs and […]
93Aug 1, 2014
He builds conversations out of her gratitude. Right now, while I write. I stop typing to listen, to respond, to touch him on the cheek. He stands just a few inches shorter than me, all bright blue eyes and sun-drenched skin, so golden brown he looks warm to the touch. When he speaks with intention, […]
94Jul 25, 2014
Sometimes we finish the day in rags and mud, and the things we carry cover us like a tomb. And it’s testimony to the Light in her that even though she’s afraid to be embarrassed, she says I can write about this, our walking through together. In my arms, she trembles. “I just want to […]
95Jun 6, 2014
She’s such a shining, starlit soul. She walks through the kitchen, where I gently lift lettuce leaves with my fingers, sorting the torn pieces into salad bowls. “Mom, what’s that?” She says, with a casual turn of her hand, a subtle gesture toward the line of butter yellow bowls. I know she doesn’t really mean, […]