Poetry
Sometimes, my words come at the same time as seeing. The idea that one is not interior to the other.
She tells me I am a loving human being the same day he tells me I am selfish and spiteful. She tells me I am brave the same day he tells me I’m a coward.
Two days before she gives birth, the 38-year-old watches a breastfeeding video from a national health institute, but it’s hard to practice without a baby.
The fractures, herniation, and slippages somehow become tolerable, managed through an elaborate system of forgetting and excusing and stores of fortitude that might otherwise be dedicated to breaking that which breaks us.
my blood moves like tectonic plates: so slow one might not notice, but notice first,…
You & the Pendulum She held a chain with a crystal suspended from it…
On those afternoons when I feel most fraught, broke as a joke, I breathe with the trees. Yes,…
by Lydia Flores there is a languagethe tongue cannotkiss the teeth to speakbut there is…