Tired, exhausted, spent. Atlas fails, his shoulders relax, the mighty stone slips, and goes tumbling. It scratches the land, denting the mountains, before crashing into western sea. He stands there trembling, covering his head. – He … Read More
In my dream I was making you pasta & nothing bad had happened to us yet you smiled and told me you would take these multivitamins & forget me. In my dream I booked a flight to wherever you … Read More
Going everywhere on that little yellow bike. To the base of mountains and looking up at the boundary where snow becomes rain. Retreat just below treeline on account of distant thunder. On the downhill a pebble could mean disaster, but … Read More
(1) My roommate stirs. Her alarm rings at 9 AM, and she hastily turns it off to avoid waking me. My half-waking dreams are all the possible ways the email I sent last night could be answered. They range from … Read More
Not the way we do. As a refuge, as a moment of silence, as an interlude through mirrors, through cold. As a breathless moment with which to blot on two coats of lipstick and splash cold water on the cheekbones. … Read More
A green restaurant, any time, really. Cigarettes on the ground outside, Sticky floors and fuzzy black mats. Customers scattered like seeds, Two clumped at the bar. Squeaking seats, a shared Shirley Temple. Salads and sandwiches drifting from Table to … Read More
what do you get a man for his birthday “what is your love language?” father hugged me mother kissed me that is what you say when you don’t know how to love. I never had my room four eyes blinked … Read More
the sun sets its sorry self behind the dining hall & the clouds above the roof are pink like gently-used gauze. i close my eyes and try to remember how it feels when things are beautiful. on the widow’s walk … Read More
the other night i dreamed of a door that opened to a hill on a hill with one thousand prayer flags tied to the trees and the sun burning the earth making your lips shine iridescent with spit or something … Read More
I am the empty stadium in your dreams, warmly lit by orange peel flowers, domes flaring. My flesh swells in Quiet bloom. To see the infinitive ceiling while it’s dry, I jump into the hole of the Joyceian dog’s … Read More
I’m not going to force your name–– Mother → Mommy → Eomoni → 어머니 → Eomma → 엄마–– because I never called you that. I never called you anything. For all your shifts you were the same, twisting every … Read More
