There’s no satisfying way to write this. I feel the weight of last night-today’s news sitting on my heart. Texas is such a big state. When I drove through it with Nadia, we drove through just the top, and fast. State lines are just lines, drawn by thieves and patrolled…

It rains and rains. One of my friends is sweeping water off of her roof in a raincoat and underwear so as not to soak another outfit. Another is sopping up water in her basement: absorb, rinse, repeat. I sit, safely on my fourth floor walkup, thinking of the apartment…

In these last days of August, I feel myself dissolving as usual. Less and less of me exists. [Insert Chekhov quote here, the one about work setting us free and stuff.] My nails, suddenly too long, click hard on the keyboard and make me feel like someone else. My first…

This post is a memory play. In it I will recall all the things I can remember from the recent past, in no particular order. I’m a bit disordered, after all and maybe this will help. The crack in the windshield, after the pop of the rock that shot from…

In the 4th floor studio building while you’re eating lunch that’s been graciously provided to you by your workplace, you can see directly across the street and into Madame Tussaud’s Wax Museum. You spend two lunchtimes gazing across the way. There is an enormous circular windowed area that juts out…

I hold the person inside my arms like it was nothing. Inside my nothing arms I hold the whole of who I am with that person. I hold on and then something shakes loose and my breath catches. My breath catches on something and then what has been hurting is…

How many times is too many time to listen to the song exile? I’m not even a Taylor Swift fan but it has its hooks in me and I’m late to the party, the party of none, the party of one, the party of now I’m medium-adjusted to taking off…

The cat to my left is licking my forearm with abandon. I burn a candle with a scent meant for winter and see how long I can take the sandpaper tongue. It is May? It is June? July is tomorrow? There is talk of summer plans (as if we ever…

After I sliced a chunk of fingernail off with the box grater, before I was flooded with the impending sense of doom that comes with the preparation of a balanced meal, before The Battle of Clean Up Your Room — sorry to bore you — I felt tired, but possible. …