On the wax museum tour of their marriage, every room sports its bullet hole or fist-sized gouge, while they, veterans of each other, arms
At first it attracts by what it reveals but leaves us thinking mostly of what is concealed, turns us over to imagination like prison
For three days I’ve been starving my belly to teach it to eat the sun. I say to it—belly, I’m ashamed of you. You
Sliding a delicately tooled revolver from a side pocket of his tuxedo he took his last meal late one night leaning backward over his