Musings on a break up.
“Healing means listening to the sounds your body makes and silence is a secret that you can only discover in solitude.”
“I often wonder if love blossoms the way that friendship blossoms. Out of a glance or a smile, a body and brain begin to depend on another for something more than interaction.”
A short story about a lesbian who reflects on a strangely lovely heterosexual relationship she had all throughout high school.
“He bleeds flamboyant. He reads homosexuality. He tastes like the delicious apple that Eve consumed – I’m sure of it.”
A four-part prose piece about love, nature, and memory.
“Even when River was as thin as could be without disappearing, she still blamed herself. But River was thin and empty, barely a crack in the Earth. And so, River blamed the earth she lay in because she had nothing else to blame.”
“Black grief reflected through white eyes often looks like violence.”
“In my square backyard a steel playground was being occupied by an over-grown, over-aged me.”
“Her neighbour is watching her eat through the windows again. She knots the spaghetti in the back of her throat, then pulls it out. Imagining it as an intestine. I am sitting in the same room, we are all cannibals.”