college heartache

It’s a heartache, nothing but a heartache… … Three in the morning and it is a time of heartache. Nothing breaks. But there are nightmares, of seeing faces I know through windows that should be closed and curtained. They peer through open and bare glass, as surely and cold as the stares of tired children … More college heartache


One afternoon, when I was young, I found a swan’s feather by the shore of the boat pond, straight and white, the slight hard curve of a silhouette. I bought an ostrich feather in midtown, in a shop filled with buttons and ribbons, froth and tumble of extravagant curls. The peacocks running free at the … More feathers

the nothing

If anyone asked me now what there was between us, I would swear it was nothing. The last time we fought was years ago, three in the morning, his eyes red from drink, mine from crying. The others are wickedly hilarious at the other end of the table, laughing off the alcohol. I trace the … More the nothing

broken febuary

  I remember that broken February when I read Augustine for the first time, and I knew that I would never believe in his pear tree, his mother or his faith. His agonies of ecstasy, his fear and trembling joy, his surrender to whatever it was that called him. How impossible his healing. … I … More broken febuary