My cousin says she hates the way
half and half leaves a greasy coating on
the inside of her mouth, lacquering her palate
She reaches in a plum fingernail to
scrape it off
I drink my coffee with skim milk
The only thickness on my tongue is
guilt and
I have tried scraping
Brushing and peeling and steel wool but
I can’t get it off Continue reading

The Promised Year

I stand at the counter eating walnuts by the handful while the cookies cool on their racks. You are across the kitchen, shuffling papers, marking them with bright red ink.

You are a million miles away, lost amid a sea of essays, sheaves of analysis, reams of fuddled words and muddied meanings. I stand on the shore. There was a time, when we were first married, when I’d sail out after you. Continue reading