My friend Leona was planning a trip to Italy, and one suitcase was reserved for books—ancient Latin authors she would read in their native landscape and in their native tongue.
A tag sticks out of Maren’s t-shirt at the top beneath her jacket: MEDIUM. COTTON/POLYESTER BLEND. The wind blows. GENTLE CYCLE ONLY. I want to trip her—
“A postdoc doesn’t make money,” Pavaan says. He thinks I was selfish to pursue what I wanted. And I was. I am. I don’t want to help Amma, I don’t want to help the dead that keep coming to me.
Where do I put it before I go to bed? / (I have some empty cupboards now.) / I’ve been holding its sharp-edged exquisite foot-thick glass / and I think it’s dripping something.
once upon a time I was struck by lightning / Oya has a funny way of telling you what to do / the electricity fertilized my mind seed / I figured I should take videos of myself in my underwear eating fruit
During my junior year of college, I was thumbing through a women’s magazine at the dentist’s office when I came across a love quiz containing the following question: “You know you’re in love with him because…”