"The spatula clattered to the ground, carrying with it droplets of grease. A baby stood outside the window, though perhaps stood was not so much the correct word as hovered..."
"This is the lie I tell. / That I am South of Boston. / That I am the Great Bay, chop and white-cap, / north wind shouldering a tidal heave, / the fire burning in the house by the shore..."
"Mother teaches me life skills / how to baste, embroider / hem and mend so I’ll understand / about silk and serge / satin, linings, padding / and about the necessity of scissors..."
"Sometimes the woman thought the trees protected her and sometimes she thought the trees would kill her. Sometimes, too, she could hear them talking, hear them calling to her..."
"I want to be drenched in flower musk, breathing it to bind what’s broken; today is April Fool’s, but all jokes have become decrepit; the bouquets with roses are too neat, too coiled, too circular..."
"I wouldn’t mind / being dizzy more often, falling down and into things, / spilling other people’s drinks in fancy restaurants. / I’d like the attention—being asked to leave..."