These pores in my hands are wells descending to the vault of my bones— a granite cradle shaped in the womb. Blood fused into bricks, cemented with the cigarette ashes my mother smoked— still compact inside my ribs. These teeth,...
“Born in 55,” my sister’s voice is thin and raspy when I ask her how old she is on her birthday. She doesn’t mention her new nursing home. In her little wooden rocking chair, tears running down her cheeks, in a sweet soprano she...
“’Void,’” Roy announces the title with pride as he turns the page expectantly. “Go on,” his wife urges. “There’s been some sort of mistake,” Roy says in disbelief, flipping the same page back and forth; “There’s nothing more;...
Ignorance, allied with power, is the most ferocious enemy justice can have
– James Baldwin
