The last ring my husband made for me still fits. We lived in our car then.Outside the world,molded to core and bone. The ring sits differently now,slides only halfway downa finger so paddedit sometimes forgets what it’s made of. The ring never forgetswhere it came from. It fits now, a widow’s ring,always at half mast. Continue reading salute
Prompt from a temporary therapist: Write about the silliest something that you use to bully yourself. Then write about how you let it go. One day a personwho loves me,loves-me-loves-me, will want to have a photo of ustogether. (Just becauseit’s never happeneddoesn’t meanit can’t. (Just becauseit’s never happeneddoesn’t meanI am a place only real enoughfor a name and naughtelse. (See Paper Towns. (See howthey still … Continue reading paper town lover
When folding the towels, I run my hands along the patterned grid. In the transition from a quiet grey to a louder grey, there is a row of loops of thread. Big circled loops cinched above small neat lines. They look like a series of twos. Happy birthday, baby, I say aloud, as I do every time I see 222 in the world. I didn’t … Continue reading 2/22/22
So often I love the blank page of a blog. I could write anything here. I could write: some plankton can make little clouds above their own heads when the sun is too bright. This is true. I could write: some people bring their rainclouds with them wherever they go. I am afraid of becoming this kind of person. This is metaphorically true, then just … Continue reading blank
Sometimes the road seems paved, but you still slip through. You leave a crack in the flooring and think, I’ll get to it, but then you don’t, and then time flaps its gargoyled wings and the crack becomes a pothole, and you fall in. Today, I fell in. I sobbed in my bathroom for awhile, watching my face contort into something truly mythical. The way … Continue reading the scream
When I can’t quite build a thought out into something solid enough for this blog, I will often post it to Instagram with the tag #LilliputianLog. The last weeks have seen a few of those posts so I thought I’d share them and the content here for those who aren’t on the other platform. _______________________________________ 03.19.2021 I traced my husband’s handwriting onto a handkerchief, then … Continue reading lilliputian logs
I measureour distancein habitsI break. They ask: “when?” I saylong enoughI’ve stoppedhunting zodiacfor fish. When they askhow long,I say:so longI zipmyself up. I measure our distancein memoriesof muscle. They ask: “when?” I sayso recentlyour handsstill tryto touch. When they askhow long,I say:I spinthe ringI buried. I measureour distancein boneand body.They ask “when?” I saytoo long.His bodyis ashwithout me. When they askhow long,I say: A heartbeat.A heartbreak. … Continue reading measures
Today people shared that the word of the year for Collin’s dictionary is lockdown, and I wonder what other dictionaries will pick. It seems like a reasonable choice even though lockdown will always mean something entirely different to me. In California state prisons, lockdown refers to the time when the prison effectively closes, and all incarcerated folk are back in their room. Lockdown happens at … Continue reading lockdown mouse
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