The first girl I kissed pushedme against the serrated brickssame color as her busted lip.Transfer student. Eyes familiar withdarkness akin toMidwestern stormcell—the

my last meal as a girl I dined onsnow. the sky snared my teethbut everyone pretended not to see. the snow was

In the beginning was the Word and the Word was as of yet undefined. The Word had freckles across the bridge of

It does not matter if you’re rich in life, As long as you’re rich in heaven.  My father, in heaven, smokes Camels. In the