In the dark bed, under the weight of his body, I think of you. I thought six months was long enough. Alive, you were always the jealous type. I imagine that night on the beach. We stumbled out of the …
As I twirled my pink-dressed partner in the Boston Dance Club ballroom finals, every man in the audience resembled my father. I tried to imagine him in the empty chair in the front row next to my husband Eric. He …
I stand in the doorway while you writhe on the couch—puke and piss make a pallet on your sheets. I remember how you looked in your incubator at St. Elizabeth’s twenty years ago. Jaundiced and yellow. A tiny straw fed …
