I didn’t intend to build an altar. I don’t worship. But I knew what had to stand in place of that guitar. And I know honouring now, like I did not before. Like a parent, I guide and narrate what is left of me – what grows – now that there is no body with which to commune.Read More Altar
I asked death to wrap itself around me.
It passed through and I crawled out.
The sweater is just a sweater. The coffee shop is a place I have been many times, with many people. And today it is three years but I will not weep for that.Read More It turns out