Memoir

4 MINLove is the whole thing. We are only pieces. -Rumi My father stares into the bowl, holding the spoon mid-air. It hovers there, suspended in space, like a humming bird eyeing a feeder. Tears stream…

4 MINAll my lovers are dead or married, and sometimes I miss everybody. I felt determined to try everything, absolutely everything, so I did. Consequently, if you laid all of them end to end, toe to…

3 MINIt’s 1966, you’re sixteen, in the arms of a boy swaying to the slow sax, For Your Precious Love. The gymnasium air is dense with AquaNet and English Leather, his warm hand is on your back; the…