Him or His Brother at Hobart

“I was wearing white lipstick when I pressed a kiss onto the dirty window in the back corner of his mother’s garage, pasting spider silk and bone-colored dust to the glass. I left that mark to be discovered at an unspecified moment. In the future. I left that mark, a ghostmark, for him to see. […]

Off the Map at Atticus Review

“The heart of you makes the sound the vacuum cleaner does when it rolls over a crayon. And then you pour out of your mouth like dirty water, splash and hover just centimeters from the ceiling. You are a swarm of apertures. You are looking in every direction at once, infested with eyes…” Read it […]