I am bathing in the taste of yesterday’s you, Slivers of ourselves tucked between my sheets You, mumbling beautiful nonsense, face pressed against my breast, the sirens of Richmond outside
Continue readingTO THE FIRST PERSON WHO TOOK CARE OF MY BODY By: Nadia Leiby
I’ve kept the photo albums you sent not on a bookshelf inside my house, (There is no welcome mat for you) but in the pocket of my passenger-side door. No
your hands are chains i have never wished to break free from. they hold me firmly yet i couldn’t dream of being let go. your fingers glide slowly over every
Unable to find a horizon I once tried to dive into the sky at midnight there is no sign of where stars end and ocean begins I leapt too high
There is none of the electricity of winter in the marshland spring rains. Instead, they roll in on the humidity, oppressive and swollen. The peepers are the first to announce