Freshly Dusted

 Bienvenida, mija de luzshe’s watching me. those brown irises follow me, and though i lock eyes with the pillars, the chapel walls, the grasses waving just beyond, i can’t shake her. i call her sunflower girl, this figment of my dreams. “have you ever fallen in love?” she asks. leaving the stone steps, i ignore her question. i gave up talking to the voices...

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rootedcan i love another like i love you?is there anything i wouldn't do for you?you ask me to love this worldthe way you do, andhere i am, with arms wide openyelling out to a stormy October skywhat i vow against to November's. and here are treesand there are seasand such is the wayfor my present complaints,to be rooted or freetwo years feels like eternity,but so...

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One hand walks the edge of the steering wheel while the other dangles out the car window, sweatless even in 100 degree heat. In the distance, stars and a red crescent moon shine, and you can still feel the arms of your hostess around you, the faint pointing upwards of, "We'll have to have you and Rebekah and Viji here in the fall....

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These are the moments she'll remember the rest of her life. Her neighbor's face lit by fire held close and a shaking cigarette, from the third box of the day. An addiction rendered beautiful in flickering orange at burnt twilight. Or the secret place at the top of the roof, with a guitar and a Bible and the open stars. She keeps waiting for someone...

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Reminiscence Clutching her father's hand, she skips through the parking lot, weaving in and out around the shopping cart and occasionally tripping into it. Bags of frozen fish shimmer under the Texas heat, condensing even on the walk from the car to the truck. The sun obliterates any chance of looking into the sky, so most days, she and her sister race their...

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A father's hands, cupping his child-to-be. His turn to name her, while the mother rolls her eyes in pleased exasperation at his indecision. He searches for the perfect name, pointing out street signs and writing down the names of his coworkers' kids. Somewhere around here, he'll find the inspiration, something beautiful for his daughter. He wants it to be perfect, the first gift he...

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The child beats her fist upon titanium walls, matching her force with her heartbeat. She keeps time in this way, unrelenting even when her fist breaks open from the force. She screams, but no one hears her, locked away as she is in the darkest of places. She wants to be free, but she doesn’t. She wants to be safe, but she doesn’t....

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