
The first dream came after the disappearance of the mirrors…

While I was pregnant, I sent my husband multiple texts a day with pictures from the eagle webcam…

a wicked woman used to laugh at me for reading vogue / she had butt ugly clothes—she is dead now…

I’d like to sing a new song, but all my carols / sort of sound the same: same names, same awe, / same snow in places where it doesn’t snow / often. My gods all follow the same laws…