It’s the deepest breath I’ve taken all day. There’s a glint in my eye as I register the slopes of your face. Even without my glasses bending light and refracting it, I would know your shape in a crowd of many people. I would know your laugh. It would carry me to any section of…

When I think about the spooky clown I think about my fear of wrinkles. The new ways I’m going to be perceived. I’m not like my mom, she laughs when I don’t think she will. I fuss over my own face over the sink into a toothpaste mirror and massage the lines between my eyebrows…

My brain begins to fabricate and patch together with hands like amble and jointless things. I remember when my eyes closed and I could play make-believe the way I did before my bones stretched out and my chest was cavernous.  I wake up with a thump of a closing book. I wake up to everyone…