Pomegranate

The cart was gaining momentum. My friend nudged me, said, "Your mother is waving," but I was biting, savoring the burst of red honey on my tongue. More

from On Paradise

Everything in and of war in war. / Every flight and branch and wing, / A body of war: a woman brushing a boy’s hair— / War—the wild turkey… More

Moonless

But I was not a destroyer of worlds. Not really. I had destroyed one world, singular, and it was just a very small one. I hadn’t even meant to… More