“I should have told you…”

Weather permits the unrelated to relate.

the dust in my mouth tastes of tombstones

I am the bird woman from the other side

felt a bit sad for / those poor people in Ukraine

I can smell what you fear

what is this thing we’ve invited into our home

Do one exceptional thing, / which was justice

Money runs through my fingers like water.

Daddy turns around. He looks sick.

these clouds are water, not smoke.

We elected it, so we had only ourselves to blame.

“There's got to be better stuff out there.”

I hear the swoop of wings beating the soft air

I keep looking at what isn't there.

I study lost saints

They are not happy

We adopted a dog. Molly.

Salute, raise your arms, swoon

You dream of snow that tastes like cream.