Ape-Like

Maudlin House

Eating My Grief

Entropy Magazine

Two Poems

Belle Ombre

“make me remember I exist in a body. / That despite all this hiding, I’m still an animal.”

“When you died, I turned to food. Not in the way most do—hunched over a carton of Chinese takeout in the bath, head in the freezer while shoveling down ice cream—but by entrenching myself in the fine dining of San Francisco.”

“He pushes me into the middle of the lake, / picks up floating trash and throws it away / once we reach land. There are so many / things we can’t bring home; so much / we must leave behind.”

From One Survivor to Another

The Manifest-Station

“When I think about being raped, I think of mosquitos. I think of the sound of a buzzing street lamp. I think of sweat, of sand, of silence. And I think of the women on the tennis court nearby, blissfully unaware of my presence a mere fifty feet away.”