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My soul is simple; it doesn’t think. Something strange paces there now.

She regarded the world calmly without the filter of her suffering.

A memory in the drip, drip, drip of the kitchen sink that won’t stop.

From a pyre on the burning ghat a corpse slowly sits up in the flames.

Salt provokes, tenderizes. Your wounds, your dinner.

I love it—watching gray light bleed out over the makeshift bed on the floor.

And the starved heart starts over, writing one line at a time.

Think how you move, how a room changes with your smallest breath.

She commands, under her breath, You must be the son.

For the president’s arrival they shot two dogs making love on the tarmac.

Let’s walk down to the river, bless the paper boats and turn it all into wine.

Charlie wasn’t Lena’s first love, but he counted on being her last.

I tell my sister what I didn’t tell my father, I love you. Please, don’t die.

I saw a bat in a dream and then later that week I saw a real bat.

I know which home takes the turning, which mind washes in hot water.

My mother’s house was packed, painted, put up for sale—sold.

They cut you off, let fall your hammered silver bracelets to the sand.

Help me, please help me, is the beggar’s refrain on the F train today.

Now he chuckles with the sea, stitched within its timeless jive.

Yes, Eylon thought, he lied to Cath. Lied about his day, about the risks.

He has his hands on Nii’s throat, and this time I do not stop them.

When she gets to Lenny’s he offers her a beer and a bong hit...

Definitely believe what you hear about the problems with painkillers.

The first murder had been a half dozen years ago in a warmer city.

Exit the building. Say nothing to anyone. They did. And they didn’t.

There lay before us a bag that gave forth, at a touch, the jingle of gold.

A dead body leaned sideways against a wall. Its eyes were open.

Ajax can answer all this killing only with the killing of himself.

Let him search, Tricia thought, who knew what he might discover.