Sunlight and tree limbs sway across the back fence, An Indonesian shadow play. The villain is my aloe vera In the large clay pot.
My sister empties drawers, boxes, plastic containers, jewelry cases, a backpack, a purse. With each emptying she calls out instructions for the things inside:
My first wedding dress—not white, not wedding. A frock bought off the rack for more than I had ever spent. Light gray with
Meningioma—a tumor that forms from the meninges, the membranous layers surrounding the brain and spinal cord. Don’t start with that don’t-you-love-your-body stuff. I’m not