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The end’s already in motion, the end was starting this whole time.

Xin Bao had gotten drunk and stolen a hyacinth macaw.

The letters combine into words that resurrect the beloved every time.

She’s not the same, her body more naked in its aging, its disorder.

If I had known I would have saved the abacus from the fire.

Having a sister or a friend is like sitting at night in a lighted house.

Once upon a time, a couple wandered in a glass forest, hand in hand.

Relief workers tore swaths of insulation from the rafters of the house.

Doctor Dressler left her a note: Suicide. Back by 7:00. Love, Max.

Children, this is what a bad dream looks like, our teacher said.

Everything rushes in. Everything that ever drove me crazy with dumb hope, every letdown.

I sometimes have to laugh because even now, as a middle-aged man.

We are each other’s as surely as song stitches breath to air.

The proper qualities of each sex are eternally surprising to the other.

A man drunk on the damage he made to a boy’s young mouth.

Warm breath in my ear mouthing a name; rivulet folded back in water.

My dear, even my ear is trying to eat itself in its attempt to forget you.

“How is it fair that you know who I am but I have to guess about you?”

I needed more. I worked her lips back and wedged my hand in.

Laurie Saurborn Young

He was reading Our Town. She studied the departure board.

Later in the pale of dawn your hair brushed across my forearm.

Order and gardens. Penelope liked things to grow just as they would.

As a shadow I arouse you will you believe the truth of my mouth.

Put out to pasture, flop down into clover, alternate to the glue factory.

I don’t need to consult a healer to feel the aura glowing around us.

“Out to lunch,” she learns from an older colleague, is a euphemism.

The stories of terror continued well after the tsunami had passed.

I’m trying to decide if I’m too cold to be curious, when the box meows.