Hello There, Little Stranger

It doesn’t feel like “butterflies” or gas bubbles. It’s about as easy to explain as the irrational idea all children have that a blanket will protect you. It feels like you would imagine it to feel: quick and abrupt. Like when you see a fish break the water ever so briefly, then go back under, …

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Pregnant Dreams

My poem, "Pregnant Dreams," as seen on The Elixir. Miscarrying while abroad; there’s lots of blood and inadequate healthcare.   A horde of tarantulas emerging from an anthill and chasing me into the water, where I promptly choke on them and drown.   Giving birth to a baby, small enough to make a bed in …

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