& it's only july, but slivers of jupiter fester in the

sink. these days i find

longing in the strangest places: between

pavement cracks,

inside the marmalade jar, the loss in the straw

of my matcha latte. &

yet, this is all i can remember: your laugh when

i told you i bled

my sorrows onto paper instead people, the

stuffy summer rain (salty

on the tongue), the squirrel you ran over for

dinner (produce is scarce

nowadays), words that are not mine jammed

inside my larynx. now what?

at dawn i check my pulse & ask fickle gods for

remission. i remember: remission

is only what makes up the distance between

sorrow & indulgence.

& i want you to listen: i want to tell you that my

eyes still haven’t stopped stinging,

that ma once took my hands & sang—the

whisper that is silenced becomes a dog who

bites back tenfold.