Sweatheart
Her sweat has his freshcucumber smellwhen she comes back after a run. After the first shockand the public expressionsshe mourned […]
Her sweat has his freshcucumber smellwhen she comes back after a run. After the first shockand the public expressionsshe mourned […]
then the B-word, followed by the C-word just before— or is it after I boiled her in oil, stewed her
In a quiet moment, maybe a sunny day drive alone, it can slip in before I notice— imagining myself if
Last night, I wore my former husband’s Army fatigues to a costume party, his name—now mine—stitched above the breast pocket.
When she doesn’t show,toss out the bread for birds,freeze the shrimp in Tupperware,and forget the words— all that awful sweet-talkyou
No stunt of his has ever awed a crowd like this vast sudden mound he’s made out of himself. Mommy,