How alike we are: nocturnal, shadow- loved, starved. Look at you— feeding on what little I have to offer: house scraps, overripe fruit. I
When my grandmother died, three rings formed around my mom’s fingers. First, India, where the gold-leafed elephants and relatives were, kept calling. Second, at
This is where I keep my ocean—in a small grey drawer with a light-brown knob. Whelk, clam, scallop, mussel, snail. Smooth, striated, spiraling,