This Face is a Story

I’ve taken to staring at my face in the mirror each night. After I’ve gently washed it. After I’ve patted it dry and brushed my wet bangs off to one side I stare. At first, I did so halfway as if off handedly catching my reflection in a storefront. Unintentional. Removed. But then something would […]

The Year of My Undoing

There was a woman I held dear. She was not my mother but she loved me as her own. I picked flowers in her yard and swung in her hammock and watched her make art. I watched her in the year of her undoing. I quietly observed the way her mind puzzled, distorted, melted even. […]

As the Anniversary of My Mom’s Death Approaches

The body remembers. It keeps tabs and intuits cycles. The doing the feeling the becoming all tangled together. Not unlike last year’s morning glory vines braided together, now brown from frost after frost after frost. Whose roots are plump with green, waiting while the light stretches long About a month before The date something shifts […]

What Women Look Like On the Inside

My mom always carried a large purse. One year it was a black macramé number. The next, brown pleather. While she sat at the kitchen table paying bills I would rummage through it. Peppermints, a smattering of pennies, bent bobby pins, tissues stamped with pink lipstick. “This is what women look like on the inside,” […]

Things I Have Observed in Silence

I am six years old. The bathtub is full of mediocre bubbles. I am on my back and my hair is floating around my head like so much kelp in the water. The ceiling straight above me has an aging water stain from the ice storm the year before. I stay there until the water […]