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Pummel nests from limbs and drown the furred things in their dens.

Mom could have been an acre away, or doe-still behind the next stalk.

Havana, Cuba, on the inevitable cusp of change. A photo gallery.

A dangerous heat came from him, the heat of some interior decay.

You’ve trained me well in the art of intimate distance. It’s not been easy.

The world is a riddle of shape and texture, from sight to smell to sound.

He tries to appear slight in his leather jacket and turbulent jeans.

I have placed my thoughts for you in a nest of copper shavings.

A spider drifted down so slowly from the ceiling on a silver thread.

If I weaseled out of Bible study a little early, he’d speed me to the gym.

Snug in the spell of a cradle rocking, I remember the first time I floated.

Rays burst from behind the mountain, sweep the broad beach.

This kind of heart-wrenching love was different from all the others.

Didn’t you think I’d come after you? Don’t you want to be with me?

I’m not the girl for anyone. I can’t just go be a wife.

Eliza Frye

He calmed the animal with song while loosening the slipknot.

Life has never been in remission or rehabilitation. Life doesn’t sing.

It’s impossible to identify where your voice ends and the magnitude begins.

He begins to realize that the impossible event may well be about to occur.

“I know I am disabled. Technically. But I don’t feel that way.”

Wake up drenched in sweat, with fatigue that reaches to your marrow.

My advice would be not to trust. The ocean is just the ocean until I say otherwise.

Lily hated Ray’s cancer. She couldn’t see it or cure it.

Our hopes swirled around the act of swallowing a teaspoon of yogurt.

As soon as I heard his voice, I felt as if a wind had swept through my head.

I only divine the cat’s location when I hear its small cough.

Let the squeamish suffer their fear, let them live without really living.

We agreed: no hearts, no flowers, just courteous, no-strings sex.