Welcome home.

An ice cream sundae from my childhood, topped with chocolate that hardens into a shell and cherries as red as mom’s lipstick. The spoon clatters to the floor and I reach for it, arms too small to manage–the outburst that should have followed is prevented bya waitress passing me a new one, putting her much… Read more

The street lights glowed lazy after the rain / hazy like bokeh in a polaroid picture / on the night that / we decided to break up. How / cinematic, how dramatic, the way / it had drizzled a few hours / before, and we were sharing an umbrella—I think that was / the last… Read more