Glissade

At nineteen, a man carries me over water and my fear drops me into guilt. I like to tell you that I am young…

the ocean waves whisper to my naked feet

A child’s need to be chased, to hide and be found time and again, is why my father is the ghost stalking my dreams. When I was a child, hunting for where to hide and wait for my friends to seek, I found, inside an abandoned yard with an unfinished building, a hole in the …

The language of love is cliched. The language of marriage, the institution of love, is also cliched.

You’re becoming an angry feminist and I’m worried for you.

ISSUES

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