I started to write about this:   The rain, pouring like a waterfall. Me in the yard, wearing nothing but a red sweater, sodden and heavy, leaving one shoulder bare and me naked below the waist. You on the porch, dry hands on the wooden railing, unable to look away. I’m cold in the wet […]

This dress is made of butterflies. They fly out of my closet by the hundreds, fluttering in seemingly random patterns around the bedroom before they begin to settle, one by one, onto my bare skin. I can feel their tiny feet sticking to me as they settle and position themselves, a swallowtail here, a mourning […]