It’s as if the rain is falling up, the way lightning is the afterimage of where the light has been— see it rising? like the past or groundlessness or a groundless past, which isn’t to say untrue, for even though I’m stranded on a flooding highway, the sweet delirium of time unconstellated, however unsound, is… More

There Let the Way Appear

I press a lathered washcloth across your chest and belly. So this is all our lives have been leading to. Retching fills the bathroom air. Reaching above my head, I open the window, drawing the scent of sweet alyssum, like honey, like stillness after rage. Hush. You’re talking nonsense. I lift your elbow to clean… More