what i’m doing anymore

I got like all cut up again, like inside, a few weeks ago. All this many recovering days later, the blood still trickles out of me, when it wants. Reminding me that it happened. But I don’t recognize it anymore as belonging to me. I’m detached from all the private betrayals. Using up what I still […]

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 […]

tagging the surgeon

So the surgeon suggests, three consecutive times, that we go out. Like on a date, I guess. I have a fondness for the surgeon because, despite having my number, he only ever corresponds with me occasionally. This is a good quality in a man, if you’re me. So he’s got that going for him. But I […]

final frame

The last time I saw the photojournalist, we scheduled a tearing apart. I was so dazed afterwards that it’s been hard to find the words. Even now, with a few months distance, I doubt I’ll be able to do it justice. I wore a blue and gold dress for the occasion. Silk. It was beautiful. […]

resemblance

Somehow, my son finds a picture of my mum this week. It’s all such a long story, and it never really stops. Despite the fact that I shed people regularly, the way a snake sheds its skin. “You look just like her!” Django tells me, that laughter in his voice when he knows he’s found […]