“He keeps calling me a saint. He keeps telling me It can’t be wrong if it’s true love.” Read more here.
“Wet eyes in kitchen light, feversmacked in through the window and out again galaxies spinning like so much confectioner’s sugar spilled…” Read more in the May 2014 issue, page 7: Bitterzoet
“I bury the remnants of my baby there. Now my fingernails are rimmed with soil instead of blood. Dark, brownblack threads after I wipe the mud away. I could embroider a little rabbit with them, a little rabbit burrowing into the underworld.” Read more: Blood
“I plant my hands on my hips and announce, “That’s stupid! Girls-can-do-anything-that-boys-can.” That’s what I’ve been told. And I believe it with perfect faith. It’s 1979. I have a full-color poster of Lynda Carter as Wonder Woman above my bed.” Read more here.