walking in the front door, I have to catch myself at the threshold …

Two months after, she realized that she could not envision his eyes — smoky brown, heavily lashed — searching for her.

We sailed out further than I ever imagined and turned to look back, gauge the distance, watch the changing sky.

The day we gathered to remember you, fires rampaged across our state as the diablo winds whipped October and stories circled like whirling leaves

I am no longer all bones and angles. My sharp points have been sanded smooth, gently curved into a softer version of my former self.