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The Dress

Despite seeing the other knockoffs, I hoped my dress would be perfect.

The Edith Poems

When I cried the tears felt so ineffective next to the ocean.

The Fate of Others

“She was breakable, and I probably knew it from the start.”

The Feast of Saint Francis

Francis too had his time in the wilderness, lost in the mountains.

The Final Angel

The caved-in storefront looked as if a missile had slammed into it.

The Final Gift

I uttered words I will regret to my last breath, which is already near.

The Fine Arts and Other Poems

Judging beauty, which is keenest, Eye or heart or mind or penis?

The First Meeting

Her lips had the scent of the first kiss, and a thirst for justice.

The Flowers in the Desert

Lorena hummed inside her mind, anticipating daybreak.

The Forgettable Life and Other Poems

A body must learn again how to accept the proprietorial hands of a lover.

The Forgotten One

What was he, twenty, no, twenty-two years younger than me.

The Garden

Every voice an epitaph, and then a little tune from the neighbor’s yard.

The Gold Cure

Lust was just a frenzy of activity that had mostly led Benny in circles.

The Gold Cure

Jennifer Egan’s A Visit From the Goon Squad wins Pulitzer Prize.

The Grass Labyrinth

I found myself wondering what her life had been in her widowhood.

The Great Beyond

I could become something new. Improved. Like detergent.

The Hands That Waved Farewell

Hands that have waved farewell, sooner or later I will see them again.

The Hanging

On that still, snowy day, Mick’s neck popped like a flaming log.

The Harp Department in Love

She’s innocent, guilty of nothing but the need to be admired.

The Heart Is Oil

The mirror will flow and the heart will set like glass in the frame of his bones.

The High Place I Go

My husband screws around. Not much and not often, but I know.

The Hookup

This is what he must have felt when she told him about her affair.

The Horse Dealer’s Daughter

So long as there was money, the girl felt established, and brutally proud.

The Hotel Macabre

At straight-up noon, the honeymoon was ruined, one day in.

The Invention of the Darling

With no words to speak about our love, we’re each one more alone.

The keepers

It’s all that I have left of “the old country,” as my mother calls it.

The Kiss

Below, the kiss silently maneuvers our bodies closer to the rose bed.

The Lady with the Little Dog

Gurov reflected, “it wouldn’t be a bad idea to make her acquaintance.”

The Langham Club

We backed up and I kept ripping it at his face, trying to knock his teeth out.

The Last Language

I think you might have turned into a novelist, if we’d been allowed to go on.