made of lock, made of key, made of bone and long windows. made gently, piece on piece, paving stones selected, set— leading to the
I try not eating the chocolate one with sprinkles and I don’t succeed—my pledge to my diet dies, but the taste validates my backsliding,
The man waiting for the carpool ride to arrive, standing in the hallway in the gray sharkskin suit, tubes of Havana panatelas inside his
A shovel scraping bare rock, carving up another little piece of my heart, hoarse with it, coarse with