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Her last relationship was with Elsa’s Instagram, truth be told. If Elsa is going to accept her follower invite, it needs to look believable. You did a bad thing, she thinks, and this is what you get.

“I wonder what will stay longer,” Frick said. “Me or that headstone.”

That late afternoon in the park, with its kiss, wasn’t an ending or a beginning; it was both. The piano had been a great bird rustling and swooping in the vast space.

A plus B; a child in peril, plus love, dissolution of, equals a story.

I build our life together as I want it to be.

Michael McGriff

Robert Hedin

What excuse did I use to pick a fight with that arrogant poet?

This is the stupid math of loving another human being.

Years ago I wanted parallel lives, to see how it turns out for all of me.

Let’s rummage through each other’s bodies like a blowout sale.

What do you offer someone who has lost half of her beginning?

Through the dark, we say, through the dark: but do we ever really know?

I am veins and breath, the entrance the world passes through.

Who are we? Without one another, who will we be?

There’s nowhere he can kiss where she hasn’t been kissed by the sun.

How large our muscles have to be to lift our wings even a single time.

I’ve taken the pledge and made donations of blood to the world.

“What’s the shittiest thing you’ve ever done to someone?” she said.

I’m from Boston, is that why I imagine Fredrick’s emotions for him?

At Walden Pond, Henry Thoreau clicks like on the “Wilderness” page.

If you can be seen, you can be killed. No-man’s-land is everyman’s land.

Let’s put a frog in his bed and have him feel it jump all over him.

Like lions in cages, women like me dream . . . of freedom . . .

Youth! Goodness! Joy! Hope! Strange things to bring to a place like this.

i silenced with my hands the loud wet thing that would not let me sleep

I turned—a peculiar triumph—as ruin succumbed to the ruin it birthed.

Tobias Wolff reading two stories aloud: "Say Yes" and "Her Dog."

…a classmate dropped dead, his heart was attacked at thirty-three.

I walked that land with him, one and mingling, breaking into breath.