A bag of baby  teeth, a button, a pack  of shoe laces, a Sousa medal, and a black ball cap

Amelie, a wagging beagle, the smell of hot horse and dry grass— gray sky tucked around me like damp cotton

Who has back and crack hair Whose kid smokes pot and from which window Which septuagenarian wears frilly white underpants

a potpourri of goldfish, crayons, and Thai fish sauce Charles Griffes a grubby little book about Evangelicals 16 used masks

DNA, like an invasive species, draws our epilogues onto our faces. You can bet your fat black watch on it.

you need a snorkel to breathe you can see the grass sweat beads you can grow morels on your face

after her mastectomy, my grandmother let me sleep on her breast inserts– they smelled like silicone and cookies– love’s complicated

terrowfully*–imagining your injury–repeating no no no this was her way this is not the only way to love *(terror + sorrow+fully)

turning off lights leaving my shoes by the door eating what I take and brushing my crumbs into the sink

Remembering Jean no-bake cookies cooling in the kitchen an accordion in the garage fireflies and a strawberry patch between