These dried-out paint brushes which fell from my lips have been removed with your departure; they are such minute losses compared with the light bulb gone from my brain, the sections of chicken wire from my liver, the precise silver hammers in my ankles which delicately banged and pointed magnetically to you. Love has became […]

Twenty stories high above the desert with its morning shadows, like the face of a woman wearing a wide-brimmed hat, you stand quietly so that you won’t wake your husband, who sleeps like a tired gardener, his hands brown from Michigan summer labor—tomatoes, gypsy peppers, sweet basil and sun flowers. You love this time of […]