the face is five eyes wide.
You pencil the extras in
and then erase them,
but in every crowd
they're impossible to unsee—
one for the dead,
one for the dream life,
one for the yet-to-be—
gazing at you
from the other side of time.
in the stream behind
your house we absconded
with one, he pinched
at my cupped palms
as we
...
[+]
There's a ghost in my house. I hear her singing.
A little girl. Why is it always a little girl?
The light through the window is barely enough to see by, but the sky outside is very pale. Clouds
...
[+]