it can always start over

So we move to a large and isolated house, with marble floors that are cold on my bare feet, and life starts over again. If there is one aspect of my story of which I am certain, it is this: It can always start over. I don’t know how to talk about the life I’m […]

the street

So Hyde rescued me. Life got confusing, too big, too difficult to navigate. My mind’s graffiti art became dizzying, no longer lovely in its overlap. I spent overheated days trying to differentiate the once-valuable tags from each other, then took a sledgehammer to the entire structure, demolition-style, before it had a chance to collapse on its own. And oddly, […]

movement and sound

By the time I really quit the DJ I’d lost respect for him, and that was probably the hardest part. I don’t blame myself for that; respect is relatively difficult thing to maintain in the face of someone who says, “I’d do anything to be with you,” and then tries to off himself when you don’t return […]

show me who you are

This summer, I take Lovey and Django on a three-day car trip across four states. A sixteen-year-old boy, now an equal part of our eclectic family, also joins. Somehow, it’s in this spinning of wheels and endless road that I have historically seen my kids the most. They unwind for me. Show me who you are, I silently invite. My heart […]

the rewrite

Before the photojournalist and I said our final goodbye, he offered me some insight in the form of a story. The story was about a soldier who’d returned from war and found himself unable to feel in the ordinary sense, the result of adapting to such heightened conditions in his years away. He pretended, in the presence […]

the unmade bed

so some alarm on his phone chimes and he slides out of bed and into the shower. and before i’ve really thought it through, i’m fleeing my own hotel room. because my love for him is a fucking delicious knife in my heart, and it’s killing me and vitalizing me in the way that I very much […]

mr. kane

He likes me because of my thigh-high stockings. I know this because he told me. He’s charitable in his verbal appreciation of me. Though I can’t be certain, I suspect his loquacity probably helps dispel thoughts of his dead, manic-suicide, ex-wife. Filling up the space with sound. I’m curious as to why there are no pictures of […]