Quilt Mini: Threads
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Quilt Mini: Threads

The bartender starts work now. He doesn’t drive. He walks. I guide:   a vanilla glow peeking at winter’s chalk drawings.   He goes in through the front door. I go in through the window. The bartender’s lips are dry.   He fills craters with liquid. Warm in the stomach. Water on the moon.   Drops sift through space, down our cheeks, like...

Jane was leaving the convenience store when her romcom was ruined. What they don’t tell you about meet-cutes is that meeting is never as cute the second time around. In fact, the so-we-meet-again is the most awkward part, and it always happens when you’re not expecting...

an apple is the doorstop. in lieu of a working lock it is an invitation, a trail of pawprints from stoop to kitchen to hallway and back again   does it count as smoking inside? if we pour our lungs to the front porch and the smoke trails slither between the chipped green paint, green skin to...